Thunderclouds
by Glass Prism
Summary: Meredith knew that she would never love her husband again. What might have happened had she left Dr. Parker, and all the changes that ensue. AU, multi-chapter FanFiction for Bat Boy: The Musical.
1. Chapter 1

It's been over a year and I'm back with a story. For those who had me on Story Alert and are hoping I have a slasher fic for them...I'm sorry. Really, truly sorry. But I've moved on. (To a fandom even smaller than my previous one, apparently. I really know how to pick 'em, don't I?)

Anyway, my school held a production of Bat Boy: The Musical a few months back, and it stuck with me, so here's a multi-chapter, alternate universe fanfiction for all you Batophiles! If you don't enjoy these type of stories, I have also been writing a series of Bat Boy vignettes that will be up shortly, so you can go read those instead. And when you're finished, review! Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Oh, and the title. No idea. Couldn't think of one. But hopefully the quote below might help explain it.

Without further ado...

**BAT BOY: THUNDERCLOUDS**

"_Those thunderclouds are closing in…_"_ – Bat Boy: The Musical_

**CHAPTER 1**

_I don't love him._

_Yet there he was, on his knees, proposing to her, looking into her eyes for the first time in months. He was asking her to marry him, because she was pregnant with his child and he hoped that she would love him again._

_She could not._

_Every time she saw him, she saw not the kind, handsome, brilliant veterinarian who had enthralled her, but only the man who had violated her. She looked into his eyes now, too, and still all she could see the uncontrollable lust; she saw his hands reaching out and grabbing her and forcing himself on her…_

_Her vision cleared, and now she saw something else: that he loved her, that he would continue loving her even if she didn't. Could she callously deny his greatest wish?_

_No, she could not._

_So she accepted, and he smiled and swung her around in his arms while she controlled her shudder of revulsion, and hoped that someday, she would come to love him again._

_But in her heart, she knew she never would._

* * *

Harlan Ellis had heard a lot of nice things said about fresh air – how wonderful it smelled, how refreshing it was after hours of confinement, how healthy it made you.

After a decade of it, though, he was starting to find it a bit wearing.

Perhaps it was the nature of Hope Falls fresh air – a perfect mixture of animal sweat, decaying meat, and blood. Oh, and don't forget the abundance of cow manure.

The sacrifices he made for his job, he thought to himself as he crept up behind a cow that had drifted away from the herd.

Loners always suffered the most, he mused as he slashed open its throat. The cow toppled over with a gurgling moo and he leaped clear; experience had taught him that animals never died quickly – they went through several minutes of death throes, spraying blood everywhere in the process.

He waited patiently for the cow to stop kicking, fearing that all the blood would be drained out before it had died. It had not; it never did, and he laid a bucket under its slashed neck to collect the scarlet liquid.

He had no worries about what the owner would think. Rural folk were all the same – a superstitious lot, as likely to blame a vengeful God as turn on the nearest scapegoat. He hoped it was the former, though the second option was always more entertaining.

When the bucket was filled he made his way out of the grazing area and back to his tent in the clearing.

* * *

"Dude, you are so hot!"

Shelley flipped her hair expertly behind her shoulders and smiled enticingly. Rick Taylor, the class dropout, the rebellious cave explorer, and the hottest guy in school, had just said _she_ was hot.

She said, "You know my mom's upstairs tonight?"

He grinned and nearly sent Shelley melting. "So? Who's going to get into trouble if she finds out?"

"Me."

"Exactly." He leaned over and kissed her, and she really did melt this time.

"SHELLEY!"

"Oh shoot!" She shoved Rick away and quickly dropped on to the sofa, book in hand. "Yeah Mom?"

"Are you ready? We're going shopping!"

What? She wasn't going shopping! She saw Rick give her a look and quickly shook her head. "Mom, what're you talking about? I'm not going shopping!"

"Of course you are honey. You're already dressed!" Meredith came popping downstairs and promptly grabbed her wayward daughter and her boyfriend and deposited them outside. "You'll have to come back tomorrow Rick. Come along Shelley."

"MOM!"

But there was no stopping Meredith when her daughter's honor was at stake. Shelley could only mouth a frantic, "My room tonight!" at Rick before she was stuffed in the backseat of the car.

"Mom what was that! Rick and I were busy talking!" Shelley cried.

"Honey, I'm not stupid. You and Rick were very far from talking. Haven't any of my warnings come through to you?"

"Which ones?" Shelley couldn't help but compare her mother to Rick Taylor's mom. Sure, her mom was single and divorced, while Mrs. Taylor was not, but they were similar in one big way – they were like female grizzly bears when it came to their children.

Meredith was saying, "Boys have hormones, and they are not like girls – they just can't control themselves."

"If I had a dad, he would've let me go out with him."

"Shelley, a father is even more protective of his daughter than a mother is," her mother said. "Your father would have cheerfully slit the Taylor boy's throat open."

What a lovely image, Shelley thought to herself.

"Well, enough wallowing," her mother continued, "Come dear, we need to go to the mall and get you a lovely dress for Reverend Hightower's revival," Meredith finished with great cheerfulness.

"I have a dress!"

"That old thing? You need more dresses Shelley!"

"No I don't!"

* * *

"You see? It's lovely, don't you think?"

"Yes, and it only took us _THREE HOURS_ to find!" Shelley yelled. She was unbelievably pissed – she and Rick could have spent the entire night… getting to know each other… until her mom had to come and ruin it.

Hopefully Rick had gotten the message. Hopefully he wouldn't come too early and crash into her mom… or too late and find her asleep. She loved Rick, but he could be a bit dense at times.

"But you will look lovely at the revival," Meredith gushed, oblivious to her daughter's plans. "And it is the social event of the season."

"I don't _want_ to look lovely; I want to look like myself."

Meredith tapped her hand against the steering wheel as they drove past the seemingly endless stretch of woods. The small town of Hope Falls had depended upon its coal mines for revenue, and when that dried up, its cows. The town was so out of the way that there were no lights along the bumpy road, leaving Shelley staring out at the dark outlines of numerous trees.

That was why the sudden light of the carnival was so easy to see.

"My goodness, what is that?" Meredith gasped.

Shelley squinted, then cried, "The carnival!"

The carnival had once been a yearly event, but had stopped coming as the townspeople migrated out to search for new jobs. Shelley had missed it, so much that she didn't let her new teenage status deter her from showing too much childish enthusiasm.

"Mom, can we go oh please can we go Mom I really want to go Mom can we -"

"Shelley!"

"PLEASE MOM, I_ promise_ I won't ask for anything I'll wear the stupid dress and everything -"

"Shelley! We'll go if you calm down and be quiet!"

* * *

Shelley's memories of the carnival had, over the years, been so embellished that the real thing simply could not compare to the nostalgic version of it in her mind.

It was still fun.

As soon as she could, Shelley ditched her mom – she may be at a carnival, but she hadn't lost all her teenage dignity. She rode on just about every ride she knew wouldn't make her vomit, ate huge amounts of junk food, and played perhaps every game available, even winning a few of them to her great surprise.

It wasn't until it was quite late that she saw someone that really made her night.

"Rick!" She would recognize that hair anywhere. "Rick!"

He waved and strolled over. "Hey Shell, you need to check out the freak cage! They've got some wild stuff there!"

"A freak?"

"Yeah, like nothing you've ever seen! C'mon!" He grabbed her hand and dragged her off before she could really relish the joy of him touching her.

There was a large tent and a small crowd gathered inside. Rick shoved aside some people and joined his two siblings, Ron and Ruthie, at the front.

Shelley glanced up at the blinding yellow lights. There was a tall wooden platform on which stood a tall man dressed in garishly outlandish clothing, with a truly horrible stovepipe hat on his dark hair. As the crowd cheered the lights swirled around him, setting up a cascade of colors meant to heighten the tension.

"That's the guy who owns it," Rick whispered, pointing to him. Shelley couldn't help but roll her eyes. Well, duh. The lights dimmed as he spoke to an eerie reddish glow that spread over the audience like blood; only one bright yellow light remained, spotlighting the carnival man, standing in erect silence, hands crossed behind his back.

When the crowd was absolutely silent, he spoke, raising his arms over the room in a dramatic gesture.

"In a cave many miles to the south," he said, "there lived a boy born with fangs in his mouth! He sleeps until the fading light, he flies through bloody dreams; and when he awakes the summer night… is filled with screams!"

His voice sounded as if he were speaking intimately to one member of the audience, yet at the same time projecting over the entire crowd. Shelley barely breathed as he leaped gracefully from his makeshift podium and onto the floor directly in front of the audience. Suddenly a hidden door opened behind him, causing the audience to gasp and back away. A tall box-like structure was pulled out through no discernible force, a large bright cloth covering its contents.

"_It _was born in the bogs," he cried, leading the audience ever closer to the hidden structure. "It feeds on the flies and frogs!" The box was moved out at the same time, until it was almost up to the audience, who had no fence or barrier against it. The people moved away hesitantly, circling around it for a better view.

"You call him 'Beast,'" Ellis said, voice dropping, "or 'Changeling'. Or even 'Demon'. But we will prove he's no such thing." He reached for the cloth, and a sudden breeze swelled the tent, blowing the cloth against the box – against the _cage_, Shelley thought, suddenly seeing the outline of the bars.

"For the world is man or beast -"

"Shelley, what are you doing in here?" a very familiar voice whispered.

"- but he is both yet neither -"

"Mom? What are you doing here?" Shelley hissed. Her mother looked towards the spectacle going on and smothered a cry, eyes widening.

"So…ladies and gentlemen, I give you -" He tore off the cloth with a flourish, "the Bat Boy!"

A gasp spread around the crowd as they beheld the creature within. Only Shelley heard a muffled cry escape from her mother behind her.

It was as horrifying as the man had said – a chained thing, half-naked, filthy and pale. It was human in shape, but thin and wasted. What was most amazing was the head – no makeup could duplicate the fanged mouth, pointed ears, bald skull, and protuberant, luminous eyes.

As the people muttered, backed away, or in the case of the Taylor kids, moved forward, the thing hissed, baring its mouth open like a cat.

"Don't worry ladies and gentlemen, we are quite safe." As if to prove him wrong, the Bat Boy lunged forward at the three approaching children, held back only by a collar and chain about its neck. "It is restrained with solid steel chains. Which brings me to the next part…"

He stepped in front of the cage heedlessly, his back to the thing. From a pocket he pulled out a – Shelley shivered – dead mouse.

"Some of you may say this is not a real creature – that it is merely a man in makeup and incredible acting skills." He turned and waved the mouse. The creature stopped hissing, stopped moving altogether, except for the eyes, fixed on the slowly swinging mouse.

"Others may say that, yes, it is real, but it is still a human creature, capable of feeling and thought." Ellis moved around the cage, the Bat Boy's gaze never leaving him, or the treat he held.

"But I will show you that you are WRONG!" The audience jumped at the sudden change in volume. "No human creature would act like this!"

He threw the mouse into the cage and the boy leapt and snatched it in his mouth. In two seconds he had swallowed the thing whole.

The audience started to murmur once more.

"And no human would react… like this…"

Ellis rolled back a sleeve and drew from another pocket, a thin knife. Slowly he sliced along his arm, drawing gasps and squeals of horror from the audience that increased tenfold when dark blood began to ooze.

But that was nothing compared to the Bat Boy's reaction. The creature seemed to almost break free of its bonds, leaping and snarling madly, a feral rage in its eyes. Several women screamed; there was a loud thump as one of them fainted.

"It's sick!"

"It ain't human!"

"It's some kinda demon!"

Ellis wiped up the blood and rolled down his sleeve. "You see, ladies and gentlemen? There are mysteries out there – creatures that never should have been born, abominations of nature we will never solve! This is but one of them! I thank you –and good night!"

He spread his hands out as the lights swerved maniacally over him and the raging boy. Both man and creature backed into the platform, and as the doors swung shut, the lights went out.

Slowly the crowd filed out, still murmuring over the spectacle. Shelley made to follow, but her mother grabbed her arm sharply.

"Shelley?" Rick looked behind his shoulder; beside him, Ron and Ruthie stopped as well. "You comin' babe?"

"No she isn't," Meredith answered sharply for her daughter. "You go on Rick Taylor. Don't let your momma know about this, got it?"

"Course not Mrs. Parker," Rick said with the respectful tone of voice he adopted only around adults. "C'mon guys."

The two younger children trotted obediently after their older brother. As soon as they were gone Shelley whirled on her mother.

"What do you mean I'm not going with Rick?" she hissed. "I'm not a child, I can take care of myself!"

"I will not debate this with you Shelley, because that is not the reason for this," Meredith answered angrily, voice barely a whisper. "I need you for something else."

"What?"

"A distraction." She nodded towards the platform. "Anything. Scream, break something, set a fire, but do something." She paused. "But I would prefer you not set a fire."

"Mom." Shelley caught her arm. "What're you going to do?"

Meredith shook her head. "I'll tell you later. Go!" And she was off behind the platform.

Shelley wrung her hands. A distraction? Her mom should have gotten Rick for this – he was the bad boy. She was a good girl.

Rick! Rick and his dumb siblings! That was it!

She raced outside, calling his name.

* * *

When the crowd was gone Harlan Ellis closed and tied off the tent flaps and entered the platform through a door, cleverly disguised as part of the wood.

Inside the platform was the cage, seven feet tall and five feet in length and width. Still chained to the floor was the Bat Boy, struggling against its bonds. Ellis sighed; after years of imprisonment, still it continued to repeat those actions. The thing must be mentally as well as physically impaired.

When it saw him, it hissed, thrashing furiously; it would be at the corner if it weren't bound to the center. Ellis lay down a bowl of blood near its head. Immediately the starved boy sat up and hobbled its way over. Within seconds most of the blood was gone, down the Bat Boy's throat.

"There now, all full?" Ellis said rhetorically, knowing the thing couldn't answer. He forced back the Bat Boy's head, still covered in blood, and tied a muzzle around its mouth, jaw, and head. It struggled futilely as he tightened the straps, then gave up as Ellis forced it away. He could hear it gnawing at the leather as he locked up the cage.

He wiped the blood off his arms and stripped off the thin wax, smoothing over the slit. He wiped off the sweat on his vest and went to the bathroom to wash off any remaining stains.

Finished, he checked over the wax covering and placed it carefully in his desk drawer, locking it up as he always did. It would not do for the audience to discover that he did not cut himself, oh no. But the blood – that was real enough, collected from dead animals he hunted himself.

He pulled off the stifling hot suit he wore and settled himself on the chair. It had been a good night. A large audience, completely enthralled by his tale of the creature, quite naïve…though what else could you expect from a backwater, coal mining town?

He sat up when he heard loud screams. Perhaps it was some stragglers, goggling at the bat boy. He was on the verge of rushing out – he's had enough close calls, idiot teenagers sometimes an inch from being bitten and sucked dry of blood – but stopped. The shrieks were coming from outside the tent.

He frowned and stepped outside, not noticing the woman watching him leave, and creeping forward towards the cage now locked securely in the back.


	2. Chapter 2

New chapter! And I forgot to put this in last time, so... (clears throat):

Disclaimer: _Bat Boy: The Musical_ does not and will not ever belong to me. If it did, it would not have ended in such a horrifyingly depressing way.

**CHAPTER 2**

The carnival experienced some odd events that night.

The Ferris wheel was one of the most popular attractions – it was not only unusually large for a traveling carnival, it was also quite fast. Folks said it was the only Ferris wheel that made you want to vomit afterwards.

Folks hadn't seen nothing yet.

It started off normally. Then, perhaps one of the staff was distracted and left their post, or perhaps a few screws were fiddled with – because the Ferris wheel sped up.

A lot.

Parents started to panic when they could no longer discern their children in the whirl of colors. Members of the carnival were rushed in to try and stop it while parents screamed, pushed each other, and generally got in the way.

On the other side of the carnival was the second most popular ride – a roller coaster that went in loops and twists, delighting children and adults alike. Of course, it wasn't so delightful when the ride stopped at the top of a loop, leaving the riders upside-down and almost dangling from their restraints.

The only people more panicked then the riders were probably the parents who had children on both rides, and who were forced to go running back and forth across the carnival, reassuring one, then the other.

In all the ensuing chaos, nobody noticed the veterinarian's wife and daughter leaving, carrying a blanket-covered form.

* * *

"Mom, are you crazy!"

This was insane! She had always known her mother had a good heart and all that other sentimental BS – but rescuing the bat freak was going way too far!

As for Meredith – how could one explain the sudden clenching of guilt that had almost overwhelmed her when she saw the boy in the cage? She, who had rescued small animals when she was younger and who cried when stray pets were put down, could not abandon the defenseless boy.

So she had gone through the platform and found the creature, muzzled and restrained, and pulled it from the cage, bundled in a ragged blanket.

And Shelley would just have to get used to it.

"You do know this is stealing!" Shelley cried. "You just _stole_ from the carnival Mom!" She huffed, sitting back, then remembering and scooting away from the… thing. "They'll _never_ come to town again."

Meredith rolled her eyes. She checked the mirror. The poor boy had been awake when she had found him and wrapped a blanket around him. She could just discern a bit of shivering under the blanket, and sighed. Probably frightened to death – a lifetime of abuse and display, then to be dragged off by strangers…

Shelley interrupted her musings, as she so often did. "Mom, how come we've been driving so long? How far was the carnival from home."

"We're not going home. We're going to drop by my office and treat this poor boy."

"_Boy_?" Shelley exclaimed in disbelief. "Mom, this is not a boy! This is some weird _freak_!"

"Don't talk that way Shelley. And stop poking him! He's not an animal you can play with!"

"Sure looks like one."

"Dear, you must learn to respect people's differences."

At least the ugly thing was covered by a blanket, Shelley thought, shoving it to the opposite end of the seat. Horrible, hideous boy… if it could even be called a boy… The thing suddenly whimpered as the car jolted over a particularly large bump, and Shelley shuddered.

The only mercy was that it didn't move around too much. It just stayed huddled at the other end of the seat. Which was good – if it fell into Shelley's lap she would have happily opened the car door and tossed it out.

"You sure you can help it?" Shelley asked as she helped haul it out, still covered in a blanket. "I mean, you're an awesome veterinarian, but I don't think you can change this thing into a human being."

"We will not _change _anything about him. He is perfectly fine as he is; we're just going to give him a wash and some clothing." Meredith pulled open the door. "And thank you for the compliment dear."

"Well, you _do_ work with animals," Shelley mumbled, unfortunately overheard.

After aiming a glare at her daughter, Meredith said, "Turn on the lights, dear, and let's get him on the table."

She did so, revealing the main room for the small veterinary office. A large metal table occupied the center, on which Meredith often put pets. Along one wall were a row of metal counters, with a huge metal sink and a special machine made to wash the cats and dogs. Along the other wall were shelves filled with medicine and tools.

They lay the covered boy on the metal table under the bright lights. There was a restless stirring under the blanket. Meredith pulled away the blanket to reveal the twisted creature underneath.

Shelley caught only a glimpse of it before it shrieked – or rather, tried to shriek, as its cries muffled by the leather muzzle around its mouth. It arched its back against the confining ropes, tugging and pulling frantically, and rolled away, eyes lolling in the light. It tumbled off the table and onto the floor, where it continued its pitiful struggle against its bonds.

Well, that explained why it hadn't been moving much.

"Mom!"

"Shelley, be quiet and help me!" Meredith yelled, ducking under to grab the boy. The thing squirmed under her hands as she untied the ropes holding its arms and legs.

"It's nuts, Mom!" Shelley yelled. The tormented boy, now freed, raced into the darkest corner, cowering as Meredith threw the blanket over it.

"Turn the lights off Shelley!" Meredith yelled, chasing after the thing as it skittered across the linoleum before promptly crashing to the ground, still writhing in pain.

The lights dimmed, not entirely off, just as Meredith managed to throw a blanket over the boy.

"Good Shelley. Good thinking." The boy shivered under the blanket, curled in a ball.

"It doesn't want your help Mom." Shelley walked around to the other side, peering at it. "I thought you'd untied it before you brought it to the car."

"I didn't have time then, now shush." Meredith put a finger to her lips, going down on her knees. Slowly she moved forward, making no sudden moves, somehow knowing the boy could sense her movements.

The boy whimpered, pulling the blanket around itself. Meredith reached out and touched where its head might be, stroking the form. The shivering lessened slightly. Meredith drew even closer, resting both hands on it. Dimly Shelley realized that this was how she treated abused dogs – slowly, gently.

Meredith let it get used to having both hands on it. When she felt it was safe, she came up and sat next to it, then pulled the blanketed figure closer, out of the darkness.

"Come on… it's okay…" she whispered. The thing didn't struggle, and Shelley watched in horrified wonder as Meredith cradled it to her chest.

Finally, Meredith started to pull the blanket off. Shelley gulped a bit when all of it came off, revealing that horrifying thing once more.

But she couldn't conceal her fascination. This was the closest she had been to a freak. It looked up at her, then moaned and drew into Meredith's arms. Its large eyes flicked everywhere, going to the lights, the table, the rack of medicines and veterinarian tools.

Still holding it, Meredith whispered to her daughter, "Okay Shelley, help me with him."

Shelley asked warily, "How…?"

"He's dirty; we'll have to wash him. And there are a lot of wounds to treat too." She pointed out the cuts and scrapes running down his limbs, back, and torso. Some were still bleeding, and the boy, to Shelley's disgust, started to lick at them.

"That is so gross," Shelley groaned. Then her mother's words sank in. "Wait, wash? Like in a bathtub?"

"Of course I do, Shelley," her mother said with some exasperation. "What else would I mean?"

"You mean…" Shelley leaped away. "_Naked_?"

"Oh Shelley, be mature," her mother sighed, pulling the bat boy up. "Come on dear," she cooed to it, "nothing to be afraid of…we need to get all the filth off you before we bandage up those cuts…"

"Mom, I'm not going in there with a naked boy!" Shelley shrieked.

"Oh Shelley-"

"He's disgusting!" she yelled.

"He is not Shelley, now are you coming or not!"

"Heck no!"

"Fine! You can stay out here!" her mother snapped. She pulled the cringing boy into the other room, slamming the door behind her.

Fuming, Shelley flung her herself on a bench.

* * *

She had to endure twenty minutes of her mother fussing over the boy.

"Now dear, get in….look, it's nice and warm too, doesn't that feel comfortable…"

A loud shriek.

"Now don't struggle like that! Oh, you got water in your eyes; let me wipe that off…watch the soap dear…._take that out of your mouth right now_…"

A hiss.

"I know it stings, but it will help, you'll see…Yes, the water's draining, it is fun to watch, isn't it? Now come on out…It's a towel…Towel…No, don't chew on it!…Well, now look what you've done…That was one of my best towels too… I'll have to get another…" A long pause. "There, all dry…."

Shelley heard cloth ripping.

"Oh, now why'd you have to go and ruin your clothes? Stop pawing at it, it'll cover you and keep you nice and warm…Yes, that's it…Now let's see what Shelley thinks of you now…"

Shelley sat up when the newly cleaned and clothed Bat Boy emerged, clutching onto her mother's skirts.

"Wow, what an improvement," she said sarcastically. Really, though, he did look more decent and fit for company. Still skinny and ugly though.

"This is my daughter Shelley," Meredith said, ignoring the last comment. "_Shelley_. Can you say Shelley?"

He didn't say anything, just stared at the girl, already large eyes growing even wider.

"Well, I suppose we can teach him to talk later," Meredith sighed. "Now Shelley, you will help me with his cuts."

"How do you-" Shelley started to ask, then shrieked as her mother pushed the hideous thing into her arms.

"Mom! He's touching me!"

"Oh be quiet Shelley! He's not harming you." Meredith gathered several bottles of medicine and a large first aid kit. "Besides, you can't treat him."

Shelley pushed the boy away, but he was clinging to her tightly, moaning.

"Mom, he's disgusting!"

"He's just a boy, Shelley."

"He's getting blood all over me!"

"Then hold him and let me help him!"

She pushed the thing off her lap. "What is _that_?" she cried, pointing at some raised bumps on his skin.

"It's just scar tissue, Shelley."

"_Scar tissue_?" Shelley repeated in disbelief. She lifted the boy's arms as if he were an object, and saw the lines running down his limbs. The clothing covered his body, but she could see some peeking out from beneath his collar, and the cuffs of his sleeves and pants. This silenced her complaints. "Is he okay?" she asked in a gentler tone.

Her mother tried to shrug nonchalantly, but couldn't quite hide her anger. "Hit and abused. He's been treated like an animal, Shelley."

"Well…Isn't that what he is?"

Meredith snapped, "No Shelley, and if that's all you see him as that I obviously haven't raised you very well! He is boy who just happens to look different."

"Who happens to look like an animal, I think."

"Shelley!"

"Well that's what he looks like!" The boy suddenly latched onto her again as their voices grew louder. "Ew! He's squeezing me!"

"He's scared. Just a few more minutes." She applied the last few bandages. "There! All better, aren't you? Doesn't he look better Shelley?"

Shelley managed not to roll her eyes, but only barely. "Yes Mom, he looks awesome. Are we going to drop him off in the orphanage or something?"

"Of course not!" Meredith cried. "We're taking him home with us!"

"We're WHAT?"


	3. Chapter 3

Whoohoo, another chapter, and the longest yet. You know, the more I edit my story, the more I start to hate it. Is that a bad thing?

**CHAPTER 3**

_Meredith was almost asleep when she felt Thomas reach across the bed for her._

"_Thomas!"_

_He jerked back. "I'm sorry Meredith. I had hoped…that we could overcome this."_

_She scooted away. "No Thomas, it's just…I don't know if we should do this…with the baby…"_

_He hesitated. "I don't think it would be a problem…you are not that big…and I have heard that it doesn't hurt the child in the womb…"_

"_Yes…" She floundered. "Please Thomas…after the baby is born…then we can do this…"_

_He sighed, but settled for wrapping an arm around her. "That's fine." Pause. "I love you Meredith."_

"_I…love you too, Thomas."_

* * *

Harlan Ellis was so busy making sure parents didn't sue that he didn't get back to his tent until late at night. He made his way to the cage for the nightly check-up, and was just musing to himself that the thing was unusually quiet for something that had been starved for an entire day (just for show purposes, nothing evil or sadistic about it) when he saw that it was gone.

He froze for a full minute, unable to comprehend that the Bat Boy had simply disappeared. He had been traveling with the thing for over a decade, and it had never left. He had been fairly sure that it would stay in the cage even if he untied it and left the door open, so fearful was it of his wrath.

Which meant – it _couldn't_ have escaped. It was a mere beast, unable to deduce the meaning of cages, locks, or restraints, and utterly incapable of independent thought. Which meant…

His sharp eyes lingered over the open door, the broken lock, and the mussed up straw – clearly signs of a struggle.

Someone had made off with his creature.

It had to be somebody in this accursed town. He tried to think – had there been any clear sympathizers in the crowd? Animal activists or idealistic students or the other usual suspects? Perhaps it was an overly maternal housewife. He remembered one incident in another small town, where a woman holding a small child had loudly protested the caging of the monstrous beast, even inciting the others to rise up and kick the carnival out…

Wait a minute…

Incite the others…

A small smile curled his lips. He knew these types of people – rural folk, easily led, quick to blame others, especially if they were different or strange. All they needed were a few "unexplainable" events, a scapegoat and someone to whip them into a mob, and before long, they would lead him back to his freak.

And if it happened to die in the ensuing chaos…well, he had never been attached to it anyway.

And what did these yokels value most? Their cows. The cows he had already started bleeding. And what do you know, there's a bloodsucking Bat Boy on the loose.

It was too easy, he thought, leaving his tent.

* * *

In the end, Meredith won. The boy would stay at their house.

Shelley gave the… thing a look of disgust as they drove through the woods towards home. Her mom called this a boy? He had the pointed ears, large eyes, and sharp fangs that spoke of a diet outside of a normal human'. His wasted body and skin was even paler after a washing. Some boy.

Now Shelley was forced to sit next to the wretched thing which whimpered and moaned every time the car hit a minor bump. She had to suppress a shiver when, unrestrained by seat belts (it had been on the verge of clawing them off when Meredith tried to buckle it in), it leaped next to her and huddled in a shaking ball.

And her mom insisted on calling it a boy. As she had insisted on naming it.

She named him Edgar.

It was better than her previous choice. Montgomery. Shelley shuddered. Or Reginald. He would have been laughed at in school, Shelley thought, _if_ he was able to go to school.

Her mom was already making plans.

"We'll set him up in the guest room," she said cheerfully. "It even has its own bathroom – oh, I wonder if its toilet trained. I don't think that horrible man at the carnival cared for it at all. And we need to feed it, and teach it manners and etiquette and the three R's…"

Shelley rolled her eyes.

They reached the house without any problems, the boy lulled to sleep by the soft jolting of the car. It was still sleepy and unaware as they helped him walk into their house.

It blinked as Meredith flicked on the lights, revealing the small living room, cluttered with old furniture. For a moment it seemed stunned, unable to comprehend where it was.

Then it started to shriek. Loudly.

The high-pitched scream sent a chill racing through Shelley's bones, but that was quickly forgotten when the thing leapt up and promptly tumbled clumsily behind the sofa. Meredith rushed over, crying out helplessly, while the thing continued to scream and struggle on the floor, kicking the sofa and knocking over several end tables, the ornaments narrowly missing its head.

"Shelley! Get the blanket, and get the sedative!"

Shelley did her one better – she grabbed the nearest book and smacked Edgar over the head.

He fainted.

"Shelley!" Meredith shrieked.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"You cannot be so rough with him!" Meredith looked down at the unconscious Edgar, and heaved a sigh. "Well, we might as well try and get him to his bed."

"Mom, I'm not letting him sleep anywhere near me! Put him in a cage!"

"We are not imprisoning him, Shelley!" Meredith raged. "For God's sakes, we just rescued him from one, we're not putting him back in another!"

"Then what the heck do you suggest we do?"

"He is a frightened boy who needs to be comforted," Meredith said firmly. "So we can't leave him alone…we have to be here to reassure him when he wakes up." She lifted Edgar up, not liking how easy it was to carry him. "Help me put him on the sofa, and turn the lights off – I think his eyes still need to adjust."

Shelley did as she was told.

"Now stay by him until he wakes up. He needs to know we are here to help him, not hurt him."

They sat down, watching it sleep. There was a dark spot on the back of its head where Shelley had smacked it.

"He's waking," Meredith whispered.

Sure enough, it was. The boy moved slowly, then opened its eyes and stared at them. This time it shivered, trying to huddle into the sofa cushions.

"There, there, it's okay," Meredith whispered, resting a hand carefully on its hand. It shifted, but did not resist.

"You see Shelley?" Meredith said, now stroking it. "You just need to be gentle and – whoa!"

The thing had lunged with teeth bared at her wrist and only narrowly missed, falling off the sofa with a thump. It snarled wildly, flipping upright and preparing to launch itself again.

"Oomph!"

Shelley flung herself on top, almost squashing the creature.

"Don't hurt it Shelley!"

"Are you crazy?" Shelley yelled in disbelief, struggling to keep the thing pinned down. "This thing tried to kill you, and you're worried about _me_ hurting it?"

"It doesn't know what it's doing!"

"This is why it belongs in a cage!"

"No Shelley! And get off! We aren't helping it! We have to show that we're not going to hurt him!"

The boy moaned and stopped flailing. Shelley carefully pulled herself off. It did not attack again; instead, it curled up on the floor and closed its eyes, breathing in low, shallow gasps.

"It's so ugly," Shelley said in disgust, "Like some kind of skinny rat or something."

"Skinny…" Meredith repeated, an idea dawning on her. "Of course Shelley! He's hungry!"

"Uh…"

"We must feed him! No wonder he attacked us, the poor boy was starving!" Meredith cried, so excited by her epiphany that she temporarily forgot what it was he fed on.

Shelley happily reminded her. "Doesn't he drink blood?"

Meredith paused for a full 30 seconds, then shook her head sharply. "Of course not dear. That was mere showmanship – and little Edgar here was probably so starved that he would eat anything." She clasped her hands suddenly. "I'll get him our dinner!"

"_Our_ dinner?" Shelley cried, starting to follow.

Meredith called from the kitchen, "Stay with the boy Shelley, and don't be selfish! Edgar is part of our family now!"

Oh good, just what I always wanted. My new brother is a bat boy.

Meredith came out holding a bowl of stew.

"Here you go dear," she said, setting it down in front of the boy. Edgar poked his head up and sniffed at it.

"Go on," Meredith encouraged, "try it. It's good for you."

Edgar took a bite, and promptly vomited the entire contents of his stomach back into the bowl.

"Ew."

"Now Shelley…"

"I told you it drinks blood!"

"Well…" Meredith sighed. "Let's wait and see, okay? Perhaps he only eats vegetables."

"He could eat all the animals that don't get adopted," Shelley suggested.

"SHELLEY!"

"It's just a suggestion!" Shelley exclaimed defensively. "We have some beef in the fridge! Why don't we just drain out the blood and feed it to him?"

"That's not how it works Shelley," her mother said in frustration. "You need to get it fresh from the source, or else it starts to clot. And frozen meat doesn't contain blood; they drain it all out in the slaughterhouse." She sighed. "I think you're right. I'll go by my office and get one of the animals there!"

Shelley's jaw dropped. "Mom…are you serious? You're going to kill one of your pets? What happened to your Pause for Paws Foundation?"

Meredith waved aside the objection. "I barely get any members for that anyway. And Edgar matters more." She cast a worried glance at the curled boy. "Stay with him, alright Shelley? I'll only be a few minutes."

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

"The Bat Boy walks amongst you!" Ellis roared.

He was in the town meeting house, a low squat building with rows of benches that sometimes doubled as the church. He was striding up and down the center, gesturing to each of the listeners; they sat, frozen by the terror he was slowly instilling. It was just like one of his performances – only the stakes were so much higher now! He could almost feel the tension, the fear, driving him to greater heights, greater emotion.

"You have seen what he feeds on!" he yelled, pulling back his sleeve to show off the long "cut" in his arm. The crowd visibly paled. "You know that he is a beast, a monster, restrained by neither guilt nor morals!"

The crowd visibly pulled closer, sitting at the edge of their seats, eyes riveted on him.

"He will stalk you while you rest! He will crawl through your houses while you are gone! He will track down your animals, your pets, and your children! And when the moment is right…" He slammed his fist into his palm. "He will strike!"

"He's right!" a woman shrieked.

"It's already gotten some of my cows!"

"We've gotta do somethin'!"

"Yes!" Ellis yelled. "We must band together! Only together can we defeat this monster!"

In the midst of this one man shoved his way through, thrusting his chest out so everyone could see the shiny badge pinned on his shirt.

"Now see here, sir," he said, actually joining Ellis in the middle of the rows. "Now I can understand why you're worried – hell, I am too – but I see no reason why you should go rilin' up the crowd like this! Why don't you pick up your tent and leave whilst we deal with this threat ourselves?"

This man was smarter than the rest, Ellis thought, but not without satisfaction. An intriguing challenge.

"Sheriff, let him talk!" a man yelled.

"Yeah! We wanna hear 'bout the bat freak!"

"You be quiet Roy!" another person answered. "Sheriff's right – for all we know it died in its cage and the man's tryin' to pin the blame on one of us!"

The crowd started to murmur, dissent clear in its ranks.

"Hey Ellis, show us the body!"

"Give us proof!"

Harlan Ellis knew when to fight, and when to back down. Now was the time for the latter, and he bowed courteously to the crowd. "Very well Sheriff. Wouldn't want to offend an officer of the law. But I tell you…" waving his finger at them, "…something strange happens – animals dropping dead at your feet – you'll know what's going on."

He walked out the door, letting the heavy door close behind him with an ominous boom. But as he left he could hear the whispers continuing…

"What about them cows dyin' of malnutrition?"

"My Bossy, my Bessie, they're all so thin…"

"Could it be…?"

* * *

Shelley had just settled herself on the sofa when she heard a soft knocking at her door.

She looked through the peephole and caught a distorted, though still handsome, view of Rick Taylor.

"Rick! You came!" she cried breathlessly, throwing open the door.

"Yeah! I was hidin' in the bushes to see when your mom might leave! Now let me in! Freezin' down here!"

"You were hiding in the bushes?" Shelley exclaimed, letting him in. How sweet of him!

He flashed a rock-star grin and she melted. "Course I did. I'd do a lot more for you, Shelley."

And so devoted, she thought, kissing him deeply. He responded with gusto, and they stayed locked together for several moments.

A soft hiss made Rick pull his mouth and Shelley swear under her breath. His back was to the sofa, so only she saw a pale head pop up from behind the sofa.

"Did you hear that?" Rick whispered. He started to turn but was jerked back by Shelley.

"It's nothing," she said sweetly. "Come on, Rick. Don't stop now."

They kissed. And were promptly interrupted by the sound of scuffling feet.

"Okay, I definitely heard something," Rick said firmly.

Shelley pulled him closer but saw, to her dismay, that he was uninterested in her. "Yeah, I heard it too," she said resignedly. "Look just ignore it -"

"Ignore what?"

"Uh…Edgar."

"Who _the hell_ is Edgar?" Rick asked, eyes flashing. "Your new boyfriend?"

Her eyes narrowed in turn. "Of course not Rick!" Why in heck would she go out with some bat freak when she had Rick Taylor, the most popular guy in school and the one she'd been crushing on since elementary school? "He's…um… just some animal my mom found." She tugged on his T-shirt and tumbled with him onto the sofa. "C'mon. We weren't finished."

"Finished with what?"

She rolled her eyes. "With this, dummy." She kissed him.

He drew back. "Oh," he said stupidly.

Her sigh was almost audible. "Well?"

"Oh. Right."

More kissing. Followed by an even louder bang.

Rick sprang up, knocking Shelley off the sofa. "Okay, Shelley, I'm shuttin' your Edgar up! It's ruinin' our time together!"

"He's not 'my Edgar' Rick! You leave him alone!"

Rick leaped deftly over the sofa and almost landed on the boy. "Whoa!" He started back, eyes widening. "Shelley! Why's that thing from the carnival doing in your house?"

Shelley snapped, "My mom rescued it, now can we go to my room or something?"

Rick ignored her protests and moved around; Edgar watched him, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. "Man, this thing is wild! He really is some kind of bat boy!" He leered at it. "Bat Boy! Come on Bat Boy! Hey, does he really drink blood?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"Aw, c'mon Shel! This thing is awesome! Hey, could I bring my brother and sister over to see it too?"

"_No_!" Shelley cried. "Look, can we _please_ just go to my room? My mom rescued him and now she wants him to stay with us." She shrugged and tugged on his shoulder, trying to bring his attention back to where it properly belonged. "You know my mom – she cries every time something dies. Kind of why her office is so crowded right now."

"Aw, that's sweet Shel, but lemme have some fun with the little guy first, 'kay?"

"Rick…"

Edgar sat up on his haunches and hissed at him. Rick laughed loudly. "The freak's got attitude! Hey little freak, whatcha gonna do? Gonna eat me up like you did that mouse?"

"Rick, really…"

"But first…" He grabbed Shelley from behind, making her squeal. "We're gonna make love in front of you tonight!" He shoved his mouth into Shelley's, a most unpleasant feeling. She shoved him away, wiping her mouth in disgust.

"Stop it, Rick!" she exclaimed.

He looked offended. "What's the matter with you?" Shelley was about to snarl a reply when his eyes narrowed and he turned on Edgar. "Oh man, is that thing freakin' you out Shel?" The boy bared his teeth, as if knowing Rick was insulting it.

"Heck no. My mom's going to back any minute, so why don't you just go home?" She honestly didn't care anymore about spending the night with Rick – not if he was being this rude and stupid.

He swaggered towards the trembling boy, ignoring her admittedly feeble protests.

"Hey little peeper, you enjoyin' what you see? You gonna give us a little privacy?" The Bat Boy understood none of this; he continued gaping at the large teenager heading for him. Rick's face reddened. "If you don't stop that freaky starin' right now, you're gonna wish you were never born, you little pig!"

The Bat Boy howled, panting in a horrible parody of their lovemaking.

"Damn it, what the hell is wrong with you?" Rick roared. "Shut up!" Edgar shrieked again, and when Rick lunged for him, leapt nimbly out of the way and causing Rick to crash into the coffee table. Rick howled almost as loudly as Edgar, grabbing his bruised knee. "You're gonna pay for that, freak!"

Shelley yelled, "Rick!"

"I'm gonna rip out your guts -"

"Rick, shut up!"

"- and poke out your eyes -"

"Get out Rick!"

"- and tear you limb from limb, you slimy son of a -"

"Rick Taylor! Just what do you think you're doing?"

Meredith came marching in, a covered cage in her arms and a laser beam stare aimed straight at the boy.

"Um…hey Mrs. Parker," Rick mumbled, suddenly petrified with fear. He pointed feebly to Edgar. "You know that bat freak from the carnival? Heh, for some reason, he's in your house -"

Meredith's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you try to distract me, Rick Taylor!" she cried. "What are you doing with my daughter?" She stepped towards him menacingly. "Trying to harm a starving boy?"

Fear crossed his face. "No Mrs. Parker! I wasn't doing nothin'!"

"Maybe I should tell your mother about this!"

Pure terror took over. "No! Don't tell my mom! I swear I wasn't doin' nothing! Honest!"

"Get out of my house right now, Rick Taylor!"

Rick gulped, nodding frantically, then ran out the door without so much as a "See ya Shelley!"

Meredith now rounded on her.

"Shelley Parker! How dare you bring that boy in, and after telling you to keep Edgar here a secret!"

"Mom! Rick was the one who helped make a distraction!"

"And making fun of poor Edgar!" Meredith continued without hearing. "A little boy who wasn't doing you any harm!"

"I wasn't the one yelling at him!" Shelley exclaimed in frustration. "And I tried to get Rick to leave, but he wouldn't! Really!"

"You've gone and frightened him now," Meredith said, not hearing her daughter's words. She went to Edgar, who skittered into the corner of the room farthest from her. "Look at him. The poor thing was tied up when we found him. God only knows why anyone would do that to him. Poor dear." She uncovered the cage and beckoned to him; Shelley gulped when she saw a dead cat lying in it.

"Wow Mom. You really did kill something."

Meredith sighed. "Yes dear, and it was the most difficult act in my life. The poor kitten was crying out even as I put it into the chamber…" She shook her head sadly. "But if it helps Edgar…Well, shall we see?"

She placed the cat on the floor and waited. Shelley knelt beside her, but Edgar was clearly frozen in his corner and not likely to go near any of them anytime soon.

"Mom, he's not eating it."

"Let's back away then."

They did so, until the two women were on opposite side of the room. Then they sat down and waited.

Edgar looked at them, then at the cat. He sniffed the air cautiously, casting another glance in their direction, then stepped forward.

"He's moving Mom!"

Her whisper made him jump back to his corner and her mother hiss at her to be silent.

Edgar crept out after only a few seconds of waiting, almost tiptoeing to the cat lying prone on the floor, constantly throwing cautious stares at them; he was like a wild animal that had suddenly found itself under the care of zoo keepers.

After several tense moments he reached the cat. He gave Meredith and Shelley one last glance before, quite suddenly, ripping into the cat and spewing blood and bits of meat and guts all over the hardwood floor.

"That is so disgusting," Shelley groaned as Edgar burrowed his face into the cat's torn body. "Are we going to have to feed him like this every day? Three times a day?"

"If we must Shelley," Meredith said determinedly. "If we must.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm so happy to get some reviews, at last!

Okay, a few warnings. One, I'm going to start...referring?...alluding?...to another fairy tale (against my better judgment, too). Two, I recently (and by recently I mean, an hour ago, as of this writing) managed to borrow the ENTIRE script for Bat Boy from a very nice guy who had a HUGE part in the play itself (and I need to find some way to repay him...), and reading it over, I'm thinking that I'm going to have rewrite a good deal of my stuff to stay in character. This MIGHT cause a delay in my updates - not a huge one, just a few days delay, while I re-edit (again).

Okay, here's Chapter 4...

**CHAPTER 4**

"Shelley! Could you feed Edgar for me?"

"Sure Mom." She grabbed the proffered bowl (it was covered and that was how Shelley liked it – after all, out of sight, out of mind) and walked slowly up the steps to Edgar's room.

It was startling how fast the family had settle into a routine. A week had passed, a very harried week that left Shelley wondering how her mother handled it all.

They had to first earn Edgar's trust, and what an ordeal _that_ was. Meredith's hopes of settling him into a room were dashed, since Edgar had a tendency to run and cower in a corner whenever they approached. He spent the first night right there, sleeping on the thin carpet. The only thing Meredith could do was to leave him there and, when he was asleep, drape a blanket over his thin body.

The next day was devoted to gaining his trust, and the only way they could do this was with food. They coaxed him by giving offerings of meat and blood, until he was close enough for them to touch. They had to tread softly around him, speak kindly to him and show him that they did not intend to harm him. The second night, he tolerated their nearness enough so that they could move him to the sofa – but no more.

The third day was when they finally settled Edgar into the guest room, a small, plainly furnished room; this was to their advantage, since Edgar had a tendency to knock things over as he skittered over the floor. It also led to a whole series of lessons that left both women dead tired – they had to show him how to sleep in a bed, keep him from chewing on his pillows and sheets, to cover himself up when it was cold, and to stop gnawing on furniture. They had to, among other things, buy clothing for him and how to wear it; show that the window was, in fact, closed and that he could not go leaping out onto the roof without shattering the glass, and that his reflection in the mirror was harmless. And this was before they showed him the bathroom (which led to lessons Shelley couldn't contemplate without shuddering).

Shelley had to go to school, and Meredith to work, and since they couldn't very well leave Edgar alone in their home, Meredith had taken to smuggling to boy to her office and hiding him in one of the back rooms, hurrying between patients and him:

"_Edgar? You can come out now."_

_She held open the door and watched him peek his head out, then crawl out. The room connected to the back held innumerable cages, most filled with stray animals. Most were cats or small dogs (the larger ones were kept out in the back), but several held animals ranging from raccoons to possums. One wall was devoted entirely to pets; another to wild animal:, rats and mice, injured birds, and harmless snakes or wandering turtles._

_Edgar ran to each of the cages, sniffing at the inhabitants, receiving loud barks from the dogs, hisses and arched backs from the cats. _

"_Don't worry dear," Meredith said when he whined, backing into the center of the room. "They'll learn to like you."_

_Edgar turned away and looked upwards, attracted to the topmost cages. After a few hops he turned to Meredith with a pleading look._

"_No, I will not get it down for you," she said to his look. "I think it's about time you learned to stand like a normal person." She gripped him beneath his arms but he yelped and crashed back into the cages, hissing. "Edgar! I am not hurting you!" She reached for him again and pulled him up._

_He wobbled dangerously and she steadied him. He clung to her arm, and she soothed him._

"_Okay, hard part's over. Come on, take a step."_

_He gave her an "are you insane?" look he had clearly learned from her daughter. She leveled an equally powerful glare back, and he seemed to sigh and started to move forward._

_His ears perked up when he heard a quiet clinging from the front desk._

"_Oh, the bell!" Meredith cried, running forward and letting Edgar topple to the floor._

Forgetting this small incident, he started to learn to stand, to walk, to explore the world around him. Meredith felt all the giddiness of a new mother watching him learn, feeling the same as when she first saw her young daughter toddle to her so many years ago.

Meredith's day ended around three, allowing her to drive to the school and pick up her daughter. All three would come home, where the lessons would continue. Every day they would force the boy to sit down and try and learn something – talking, social skills, reading and writing, toilet training…but it didn't seem to get through his head until Shelley discovered how to reward him with blood.

Slow indeed. Edgar was half child, half abused animal – at once hyperactive and running, crashing over furniture, but quickly cowed if Meredith or Shelley raised their voice even slightly; for hours afterwards, he would be quiet and deferential, watching them for any other signs of anger in such a way that both would quickly feel guilty for anything they said.

Shelley knocked perfunctorily before entering, finding Edgar sitting on his bed with his knees curled to his chest, staring out the bedroom window. She placed the bowl on his bed stand and started to walk away.

"Here's your food, Edgar. What are you looking at?" She peered out.

"Shelley."

"Well, yes, now you're looking at me, but what were you looking at…before…" The words reached her mind and she gaped, open-mouthed, at him.

"Shelley."

It was said in a hoarse whisper, but it was _a word_.

"What did you say?" she whispered.

Edgar struggled for a moment, then dove for the bowl of blood. Having eaten he sat at the edge of the bed, watching her attentively, and said, "Shelley."

Shelley was speechless with wonder. She rushed over (Edgar backed away just as quickly) and grabbed his arm, and said, "Say it again."

He looked vaguely worried by her intensity, and had little understanding of what she was saying, but he knew somehow that it had to do with the word he had said, a word which seemed connected to the girl who was at the moment clinging to his arm.

"Shelley."

"Oh. My. God." Shelley released him and ran to the stairs. "MOM! COME QUICK!"

Her mother came pounding up the steps. "What? What is it?"

Shelley pointed at Edgar for an answer. The boy dipped his head shyly, then said, "Shelley."

"He's talking," Meredith said breathlessly. "Oh Shelley, look at him! You see, I was right, we can teach him! Oh, this will be just the beginning!"

* * *

Shelley skipped down the next morning with a merry "Morning Mom!" before taking her place at the table. She paused when she saw Edgar at the table.

"So Edgar can finally eat at the table?" she asked. The last time they'd tried to put him there he'd somehow managed to flip over the table and fall off this chair in one frantic movement.

"Yes," her mother answered. "It took some work, but I think he's got it. He's improving every day. Now, what are you so excited about?"

Shelley threw up her arms. "It's the weekend!"

"Oh wonderful! You can stay home and keep Edgar company!"

It took a gigantic effort for Shelley to keep her expression still. "Uh, Mom, I was hoping to go to the mall and meet up with some friends." By which she meant Rick.

"Now dear, we need to get Edgar adjusted to the world, and that means getting him used to human company. We have to stay with him all the time."

Shelley groaned. "Mom! Please! You stay with him, if you like him so much."

"Oh, but he likes you so much better!" Shelley moaned loudly. Her mother said in a conciliatory tone, "Now dear, if you are really that desperate, you can invite your friends over." Shelley shuddered.

"No thank you," she replied.

"It was merely a suggestion, dear," Meredith said, a bit hurt. Having settled things with her daughter, she brought Edgar his food – a bowl of freshly drained blood.

Shelley groaned. "Aw, Mom, come on – I'm eating!"

"And so is he, Shelley, so be nice." Edgar immediately attempted to dunk his face into the bowl and was prevented only by a quick save from Meredith.

"That is _so_ gross. I think I'm done with breakfast." She shoved the plate over to Edgar. "Hey Edgar, try this."

"Shelley, he has his own food…"

"You can't get him adjusted if all he eats is blood," her daughter argued. To Edgar, she urged, "Come on Edgar. Eat the yummy eggs and bacon."

He sniffed at the food and pulled a face.

"Mom! He's being a picky eater!"

"He only drinks blood."

"So?"

"So don't expect him to eat your food, Shelley!"

Edgar's head swiveled as mother and daughter argued, ears twitching at the upraised voices.

"Let him eat his own food!" Meredith exclaimed. She started to take the food away but Edgar suddenly dove for it, managing to gulp down an entire egg and several pieces of bacon in one mouthful.

"Wow," Shelley said as her mother gaped down at the half-empty plate. "That was…pretty cool, actually."

Then Edgar vomited all over the table.

Not so cool.

"I'm sorry Edgar," Shelley said, an hour of cleaning later. "Next time I won't make you eat human food." She turned to her mother. "And I'm sorry Mom, for making you clean up that mess."

"It's fine, dear," Meredith replied tiredly. "Why don't you go to the mall?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes." If it would get her mischievous daughter out of her house… "Be back at five though, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Okay!"

"And try and buy a present for Edgar!"

The door slammed, and leaving Meredith to wonder if Shelley had caught the last part. She put away her mop and sat back on the sofa. Edgar hopped up beside her.

"Well, Edgar, it's just you and me." He nodded, and she wondered just how much he understood when they spoke. After all, he had eaten food abhorrent to him because…why? Because Shelley had goaded him into doing it? Because he saw them eating it and wanted to join? And if it really was because of the last reason…was he so willing to be like them that he would try something that made him sick?

She brushed away her thoughts and picked up a nearby book, pulling out the bookmark, and beckoning to him. He leaned closer, looking at the colorful pictures as she started to read.

"…And that's the end of Chapter Three." She put the book down and gazed at him quietly. He looked up at her stare and back down at the book, but didn't do or say anything. Meredith sighed; she had hoped her voice, her reading, would further develop his speaking skills, but he didn't seem to be able to say anything other than her daughter's name. Had it taken that great an effort to say one word? She remembered Shelley jabbering within weeks after her first word.

Had she been kidding herself to think that he really understood them?

"There's nothing wrong with you, is there Edgar?" she whispered. He, of course, didn't answer. She stroked his head and he nuzzled her hand shyly, closing his eyes in clear enjoyment. Still rubbing her hand along his skull, she said, half to herself, "You're a very smart young man, I think. But you're a bit shy, aren't you? Well, I don't blame you. But don't worry. We just need to figure out how to motivate you. What made you say Shelley's name?"

Meredith Parker was a skilled veterinarian and a devoted single mother, but she could not see the obvious reason. It did not occur to her; it was not even possible to her.

Edgar, seeing that she wasn't doing anything, sniffed at the book and started to chew on it. She pulled it out of his mouth and offered him some blood, which he took eagerly.

"Let's try again, okay?" She took out another glossy children's book and started to read. "This one is called: 'The Ugly Duckling'." She started to read. "'It was lovely summer weather in the country, and the golden corn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looked beautiful.'"

She looked over. Edgar cocked his head to one side. He moved his mouth slightly but now words came out.

"In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest, watching for her young brood to hatch," Meredith continued. "At length one shell cracked, and then another, and from each egg came a living creature that lifted its head and cried, 'Peep, peep.'"

Edgar mouthed along, but did not speak.

Meredith went along, "'Quack, quack,' said the mother duck. But one egg was not hatched yet."

Edgar whispered, "Duck…"

She smiled and continued reading.

* * *

After a week spent either at school or at home, it was nice to go to the outlet mall. Sure, there weren't many stores, and the selections were not great (or even numerous)…but it was where all the other teenagers hung out, and Shelley was desperate to talk to somebody other than her mother.

A present for Edgar…Hmm…The bookstore was right at the entrance…maybe she could go buy some new reading material for Edgar…like _The Little Engine That Could_. That had an inspiring message for him. Or maybe a baby book…her mom said to treat him like one…

She walked by a sports item store…no way, Edgar could barely walk. There were some snack shops and food vendors…but Edgar only drank blood. A pet shop – Edgar would only eat them…A toy store might be good…

_Enough about Edgar!_ she thought. _Think about yourself!_

She had just wandered into a clothing store when she heard somebody call her name.

"Hey Shel!"

It was Rick Taylor. He grinned and ran over.

"Rick!" she squealed, running over and hugging him.

"I missed you," he murmured into her head.

She shrugged. "I'm so sorry! I've been busy."

"Yeah, cool. Look, you're stayin' here a while, aren't you?"

"No, I've been here a while, and my mom made me promise to go home at five." She sighed sorrowfully. "I ought to be going."

He frowned. "Are you avoidin' me?"

"No! Of course not, Rick!" How dare he accuse her, she thought, feeling her joy at seeing him start to drain away. "My mom gave me a curfew, 'cause we have that Bat Boy at our house and I have to hang out with him."

"Oh, that's right!" he said, snapping his fingers. "I totally forgot about him! Hey, how's he doin'? Did your mom put him down yet?"

"Nope!" She laughed. "She's teaching him to talk right now!"

"You're kidding! We've got that Harlan Ellis guy goin' around sayin' he's the one bitin' the cows and stuff."

"Well, I know _that's_ not true!" Shelley answered. "He never leaves the house." She checked her watch. "Darn! I really have to go home!"

"Hey, can I come over some time? I wanna see you!"

"I don't think so! You know how my mom is…"

"Yeah, I guess…" He shrugged to himself. But in an undertone she muttered, "But your mom's not home all the time, is she…?"

When Shelley came home she heard her mother still reading from her book.

"'…I never dreamed of such happiness as this, while I was an ugly duckling.' The End." She closed the book, oblivious to her daughter's presence.

"Duck…ling…" Edgar echoed. He caught sight of Shelley and bounded towards her.

"Shelley Shelley Shelley She -"

"Edgar! On your feet!"

"You've taught him how to talk, Mom, can't you teach him to be quiet?"

He screeched to a stop and rose up to his full height, though he looked somewhat worried at having no support. He rectified this by grabbing on to the nearest object – in this case, Shelley.

"Whoa, Edgar," Shelley said. Edgar stumbled to a stop in front of her, gazing at her unwaveringly. Finding his gaze to be frankly unnerving, she turned instead to her mom and asked, "Did he learn all that while I was gone?"

"Oh, no. I taught him to stand and walk a bit at the office," Meredith explained cheerily. "He's like a baby…"

"Ugliest baby I've ever seen."

"Don't be mean Shelley."

Shelley stepped half a foot to her left and sent Edgar tumbling onto the nearby sofa.

"Shelley!" Meredith cried, helping Edgar back up.

"What?" Shelley sat down next to him and he quickly scrambled up. "You know, I saw Rick at the mall."

"And?"

Was that disapproval? "I dunno…he said something about that Harlan Ellis guy going around."

"Harlan who?"

"Ellis. The guy who…um…took care of Edgar."

Meredith looked up in surprise. "I thought he would have left with the rest of the carnival."

"We _did_ steal his main event, Mom," Shelley reminded her.

"Hmm…"

Shelley got to her main point. "The thing is, I don't think we should be taking Edgar outside anytime soon."

Meredith nodded. "Yes, I was just thinking that too…though some fresh air would do Edgar a lot of good." She patted his head. "I guess we'll have to wait and see. Maybe we can bring him to some isolated places…or try and disguise him as a student at your school…"

"That's a _great_ idea Mom! I'll just give him a hoodie and bring him on Monday! It's not as if my teachers take attendance or anything…"

"Don't be sarcastic Shelley. I was thinking that you could either…try and incorporate him into the real world, so it's not as much a shock when people find out…"

"Keep dreaming, Mom…"

"…or go somewhere a bit isolated, where people wouldn't be around as much…just to let him see the world around him."

"Well why don't you do it?"

"I have work, Shelley! This new disease affecting the cows – it's got all the ranchers worked up. I have to work tomorrow, even if it is the weekend."

"Wait," Shelley interrupted, "you're leaving me _alone_ with him?"

"He won't harm you," her mother said sternly. "Now look, tomorrow, while I'm gone, take him out for some air, okay? Get to know each other a bit more."

"But -"

"Shelley! Promise me!"

"Fine!" Shelley rolled her eyes. "I'll take him hiking or something. Satisfied?"

"Perhaps you should ask Edgar."

Shelley sighed and said, speaking like she would to a child, "Well, Edgar, how does that sound? Would you like to go hiking with me one day?"

To her surprise, he nodded. Shelley looked to her mother. "Does he even know what he's agreeing to?"

Meredith smiled and said, "He understands more than you think."


	5. Chapter 5

I'm bored. Have a chapter early.

**CHAPTER 5**

_Her belly was jutting out now, forcing her to reach uncomfortably for objects – such as dishes. Part of her wished Thomas could take over the immensely frustrating task; another part told her that it was the normal duties of a housewife, and that in a few months it would be over soon._

_She had felt the first kicks just a few days ago, and the frequency and strength of them never ceased to amaze her. A particularly strong one hit her, but she merely put a hand over her belly and crooned:_

"_Shh…there, there, Mommy's here…"_

_Thomas wanted a boy. She didn't care herself – a lovely little girl, or a beautiful boy, it didn't matter. A healthy, happy child was all she asked for…_

_She cried out when she felt hands wrap around her stomach._

"_Hey! It's just me," Thomas said soothingly. He stroked her hair as she twisted around. "Jumpy today?"_

_She nodded. "A bit." She didn't want to tell him that any unrequested touch frightened her._

"_I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I just wanted to surprise you."_

_She smiled. "I know. It's just…I was a little scared."_

"_Well, again…sorry." He put a hand to her face and frowned when she pushed him away. "Is something wrong?"_

"_Nothing," Meredith muttered, turning back to the dishes. "It's just…I have a lot of housework to do."_

"_I see…" She felt him move away. "Well…I'll leave you to it."_

_When he had left the room she choked out a sigh. She couldn't stand his touch anymore, not since…that day. _

_It was a phase, she told herself. Wait until the baby is born…She knew that as soon as she saw what she and Thomas had created, the beautiful child that would emerge despite the terrible circumstances from which it was conceived, she would be content. She would be happy with her husband._

* * *

The cow tipped its head upward, gazing around it with a slow rolling motion. Seeing nothing in the darkness, it drooped down and took a slow munching of grass. A contented moo emitted from it, echoed over the mountains by the other cows.

The end came quickly.

The cow collapsed without a sound, its throat slit open. A slow trickling could be heard, tinkling into a metal pan. The horrid, coppery smell of blood rose from the cooling corpse. The dark shapes all around suddenly snapped up, tense as the smell reached their nostrils.

A bellow boomed around the hills as the cows stampeded in the opposite direction.

The blood continued to trickle. Many minutes passed before it finally spurted to a stop.

The figure rose, wiping the knife on his shirt. He lifted the pan and poured the congealing liquid into plastic container before tucking it away. He moved about the cow and sawed at the head until it was lying completely severed from the body.

He was just putting away the container when he heard a distant shout.

"Hey! What the hell you doin' there?"

Ellis ran, the pan clattering against his leg, the items hindering him. He heard the man come crashing after him, the rancher's unhindered stride easily catching up to Ellis's.

"So you're the one killing the cows!" he heard the man roar. "Come back here you bastard!" The man was almost upon Ellis – he could hear his panting –

Ellis swore as the man jerked his shirt and whipped around, forgetting for one instant the knife in his hand.

The grip loosened.

Ellis stumbled back, not hearing the choked gurgle of the man standing stock still in front of him. Ellis's stomach heaved when he saw dark liquid seep to the ground, followed by the sound of the rancher collapsing to the soft grass.

Oh God no…

Ellis crept closer, the metallic stink of blood – one that was definitely not from a cow – making him queasy.

Murder.

His mind seemed to freeze. If he were to be caught… there was no telling what the people would do, and no one knew better than he how quickly people could change their perception of victims…and victimizers. It was coldly logical, the path his thoughts took. It ended with the Bat Boy.

The Bat Boy had driven him to this, after all. Not just now, but other times, when he had been forced to feed it. And it was only fitting that the death of the innocent farmer, who had only been trying to protect his livestock, should be attributed to the true culprit. And, he thought in a final justification, it was only a matter of time before the beast would actually have engaged in the act. He was simply speeding up the process.

Yes. It was the Bat Boy's fault. But he, Harlan Ellis could use this. He could make it seem like… something else.

He swallowed down the sickness in his throat and moved towards the prone body, gripping his knife until the handle was cutting into his flesh.

Fifteen minutes later, it was over. He lifted the container of blood and moved away, the distant sad moos of the cows fading behind him.

* * *

Shelley was in that vague half-sleep, half-awake state when she heard harsh shrieking coming from the room across from hers. It sent her bolt upright in a panic, then back down, an angry grunt escaping her.

"_It's just nightmares," Meredith explained after a particularly nasty episode that woke up her as well._

"_He didn't have them before!"_

"_He didn't know anything before! He's only just learning how terrible his life was! Before he had nothing to compare to it; now he does! He didn't realize he was being hurt!"_

Well he had still ruined her night. Stupid Bat Boy. Stupid nightmares that constantly woke both of them up. Stupid sideshow she just had to go to, stupid Rick for dragging her along with him. Stupid carnival, stupid Mom for letting her go, stupid her for noticing the damn thing in the first place…

The mantra's dull rhythm ran through her head and worked better then envisioning sheep. Soon she was drifting back into sleep.

For no particular reason, though, she opened her eyes, suddenly wide awake.

She saw nothing, closed her eyes, and listened, eyes still closed, yawned and flipped over. Probably some kind of bird or bat or random tree branch…

She wrapped her arms around her pillow and opened her eyes just a crack.

And found herself staring into two luminous orbs.

She shrieked, jumped out of bed, misjudged her leap and tumbled off the other side with a loud crash, falling on a pile of clothing. When she opened her eyes again she saw those two glowing eyes on her right.

She screamed again and whacked it. The two eyes disappeared and she saw a dark shape fall back.

"Who the hell is that?" she yelled, finally sitting up. She groped for her bed and found her end table, flipping on the light.

Oh God, that was blinding.

When the stinging was gone she opened her eyes for the third time and saw Edgar cowering in the corner of her room.

"Shelley?"

She blew up.

"Get the HELL out of my room you FREAK! Why are you coming in here and SNEAKING UP ON ME!" She grabbed him and hauled his thin body out the door. "Get out, get out, GET OUT!"

She slammed the door shut and threw herself back into bed with a muffled scream of frustration.

In retrospect, Shelley thought later, she might have gone a little too far throwing him out that way.

She was so annoyed that she had not gotten to sleep until a few hours before dawn, and consequently overslept herself. That meant it was her mom who discovered Edgar sleeping just outside Shelley's bedroom door, and who started yelling at her daughter for supposedly abusing the boy.

Shelley snorted in bed some hours later, waiting for sleep to come. _Fine Edgar, come into my room all you want. Just don't expect a bed to sleep on._

She curled herself around her covers and closed her eyes, waiting.

She drifted off sometime later, then awoke once more in the middle of the night. Cautiously she turned around and opened her eyes just a slit.

Yes, Edgar was waiting at the edge of her bed. Or at least she thought he was – those two large eyes were really the only thing she could see of him.

"What do you want?" she mumbled. He crawled closer at her voice – he was still on all fours – and rested his chin on her bed. She growled, "No you are not getting in my bed. Sleep on the floor."

She rolled over and sighed. That would teach him.

It wasn't until she actually heard him making a bed for himself on the ground that the guilt kicked in.

"Okay, fine! Get in the bed!"

She slid as close to the edge of the bed as she could without slipping off, and felt him leap on. The weight, funnily enough, seemed concentrated at the foot of her bed.

She sat up and saw him curled much like a large dog would near her feet, and blew a gusty sigh. Why did her mother spend all her time teaching him useless things like etiquette, when she could be teaching him things like sleeping properly? And not staring at people in that creepy way. Not to mention the right eating habits.

"Okay, uncurl," she said, reaching over and pulling him about. He put his head up. "You heard me. Uncurl." She forced him to move until he was straight. Then he lay next to her, still staring at her unblinkingly.

"Okay… Now put some covers on…" She did so when he looked as if he had no intention of moving, "...and go to sleep!" She rolled over and closed her eyes.

Edgar shifted slightly in bed, and she felt more than saw him roll once more into a ball. Well, she had tried. Her mom couldn't yell at her for that. With that thought in mind, she fell asleep once more.

The rest of the night passed peacefully for both of them.

* * *

It was far too early to be awake. The sun was just barely beginning to rise. If she cracked an eye open she could see gray-blue light coming in through the curtains. Should she turn, she would see the clock, its bright red numbers telling her that it was just after five.

Yet the phone was ringing.

Meredith groaned and sat up, pulling a robe around her when she left her warm bed. The air and floor was chilly as she sat up and grabbed the phone at her bed stand.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Parker? Sorry if we woke you – it's Bud – ya know, the rancher."

"Hello Bud. Is there something wrong with your stock?" She occasionally received calls at night – usually an animal acting queerly, giving birth in the middle of the night and having trouble…

"Um… yeah. You've gotta come over to my place…The sheriff's here already…"

Meredith blinked, then sat up suddenly. "The sheriff?"

"Yeah. My cows…they're all dead… but Mrs. Parker, whatever killed them also killed Roy!"

* * *

"Well Mrs. Parker? Is it another animal attack?"

Meredith stood up, pulling off her bloodstained gloves. She backed away from the carcass, gazing out over the vast expanse of the ranch. Bud, Roy, and Ned - together they had been the main ranchers, the ones most focused on raising cows, the worst ones affected when they started to sicken. Altogether they had owned a huge area of land, extending over several acres of grass and hills, though much of it could not be seen in the early morning fog. Meredith, however, recalled that Roy was the one running from ranch to townhouse to her office, reporting how many cows had died.

She slapped away the horde of flies and pointed at the head lying a few inches away. "See these marks? Definitely not bites – more like someone sawed the head off."

"Was it wolves then?" Ned asked, wringing his cap in his hands.

"Wolves don't saw heads off, Ned," the sheriff said in annoyance. The sunburned rancher flushed a deeper crimson; Bud patted him comfortingly on the back.

"Well look at it! It's all mauled up and the blood's drained and – Hey!" Bud's eyes suddenly widened. "You don't think it's that Bat Boy, do you? Why, it could have drained the cow and then – sawed its head off! It could handle one of them saws, I think!"

Meredith refrained from scoffing. Edgar had spent all night in his room, and he wouldn't know what to do with a saw.

"I don't put much hold in this Bat Boy," she said evenly. "Could be anything. It's definitely human, though. Animals don't act this way." She glanced around for a distraction. "I would like to examine the other cows, if that is all right. I want to collect some blood samples and check for that disease you mentioned before too."

"Sure," the sheriff muttered absentmindedly, stroking his chin. To the other ranchers, standing around aimlessly, he asked, "Well you two, do you know if Roy had any enemies around?"

* * *

After Meredith had run out of the house with a hurried explanation and an order to behave, Shelley and Edgar sat around awkwardly, wondering how it was that Meredith's absence could leave them in a vacuum of silence.

"Sooo…" Shelley said, trying to break the tension. She didn't. "I guess…we could go outside."

Edgar clambered off the sofa eagerly.

"Huh. You really want to leave the house, right?"

He nodded and ran to the door to further his point.

"Okay then. Let's head to the woods in the back." She opened the back door and hopped down the low steps. "There's a little trail leading to the mountains, and I think Rick once told me about this cave up there we could go check out." She pointed to a small but well-defined dirt path leading through the trees, gradually sloping upwards. "See? That's the one. Wanna check it out?"

He nodded and followed her as they trekked through the woods. The tall trees and their tall, leafy branches blocked out most of the sky and sun, making him feel confined and safe. The ground was softened by years of leaves, decomposing into dirt; this, coupled with the relative lack of ground cover, made the hike easy on them both.

As the dirt trail started to slope upwards, the two teenagers found themselves resting more. Shelley had packed some snacks and water bottles, and they would stop in small clearings and drink, and talk.

"So, Edgar, how are you liking the great outdoors?"

He shrugged, a gesture he had picked up from her.

"Yeah, that's kind of how my mom feels. She said my dad liked to work outdoors, though." She sat, musing, for a moment. "He was a veterinarian, like her, but she said he liked to work with the big farm animals more. My mom, she likes the small, fluffy ones."

Edgar gave her back the water bottle, unopened, and she placed it back in her pack.

"I kind of wish she would talk more about him…my dad," she continued. "I don't even remember him…"

He could only follow parts of her one-sided conversation, but he could tell she felt sad, and he comforted her in the only way he knew how – he rested his head on her shoulder and hummed in his quiet, eerie way.

She laughed. "Thanks Edgar. You're awesome to have around." He mimicked her smile, which, to his delight, made her giggle happily, and caused a peculiar lifting feeling in his chest. "Cool! Come on, let's go! We're almost there!"

They trekked the last few miles and stood at the mouth of the cave. It was huge, with a large stone ridge jutting out towards them. The inside was pitch black.

"Good thing I brought a flashlight," Shelley commented. She picked up a stone and threw it in. It echoed in the darkness. Shelley turned on the light, pointing it into the cave.

Edgar moved closer suddenly.

"What is it -" she asked, then shrieked as a swarm of bats poured from the mouth and surrounded them. She fell to the ground, flashlight flying out of her hand, and screamed as they clustered around her, tangling themselves in her hair and clothing.

"OH MY GOD!" They surrounded her – "GET OFF! GET OFF!" She whacked the air and felt her hand connect with a furry thing, and she screamed –

Like some strange flock they changed direction mid-way and circled towards Edgar, who alone amidst the chaos stayed calm. He was watching them with quiet awe as they fluttered before him, an eerie peace coming over him. They flew around him in an irregular sphere, calling to him –

Then Shelley was at his side, grabbing his arm, jerking him from the circle of bats, and screaming, "RUN!"

She dragged him away, down the trail, away from the cave. The bats chattered, their wings beating the air as they followed. Shelley ran faster, tearing into the woods and pulling Edgar after, panting and tumbling down the slope, and when they reached the end of the woods she sprinted until she had flung herself through the door.

Gasping for breath, her hair and clothing a mess, she turned to the unharmed, haunted boy, remembering his…_calm_…in the midst of the attack, and hissed,

"What the _hell_ was that?"


	6. Chapter 6

Another chapter in the same week? I'm being way too nice you all you people :).

Note: Ron and Ruthie ended up acting younger than they were in the original. I didn't realize this until way after the story was finished. Oh well, it's an AU!

**CHAPTER 6**

Ned slammed a fist on his table, making the two remaining ranchers jump.

"It don't matter what the doctor says! Roy's dead, and it's that bat freak's fault!"

He wiped at his face and glared at Bud and Mr. Dillon, equally sunburned and grief-stricken. The four ranchers had formed a kind of competitive, yet friendly group. They had worked with each other on the coal mines, grieved together when it closed, raised cows together, and worried as they lost weight, sickened, and died. The room felt empty without Roy around.

Mr. Dillon shrugged helplessly. "We don't even know where the thing is, Ned."

"Does that matter? It's suckin' our cows' blood! That's why they've been dyin' on us! And now it's moved on to outright killin' em - choppin' their heads off!" He made a nasty ripping sound. "Roy musta found it - and then the freak killed 'im! To shut 'im up!"

There was a long silence after this rant. Eventually, Mr. Dillon muttered, "That's sort of a long shot, you know..."

"Yeah, and you know we can trust Mrs. Parker," Bud piped up. "She's never lied before. She's gonna go lookin' for a poison in it too."

"No!" Ned yelled. "That Ellis man is right! There's somethin' loose in this town! First cows, now people!" he pointed a finger at them. "It's just like he said – it's attacking our animals right now. What if it moves on to our pets, our children…?"

"What if it doesn't?" Dillon wondered. "I don't like that Ellis anyway...kind of a weird fella..."

Bud shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "We'll have to wait and see," he said.

Ned, however, grinned, eyes flicking to the shotgun in the corner of the kitchen.

"But if anything _does_ happen - we'll get him."

* * *

Meredith locked the door behind her and ripped off her once-white lab coat, tossing it aside, before collapsing to the sofa.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. Of all the farmers she had worked with, these took the gold for being the most idiotic, intolerant bunch.

Of course it wasn't Edgar! They had fed him properly, they had watched him – there was no way he could escape from the house without them knowing.

Edgar was _not_ a killer.

There was something else at work.

She peered at the clock and started when she realized it was past four in the afternoon. She had to get dinner ready, and check up on her two children…

Shelley came down the steps, Edgar following close behind. Meredith took one look at her pale face and knew something was wrong. "Shelley, what happened?"

Her daughter's answer sent chills down Meredith's spine. "_Bats_."

"Bats? What did they do?"

Shelley frowned. "Mom -"

"_What did they do?_"

She shivered. "They came out of a cave -"

"_Cave_? What cave?"

"The cave Rick always goes to! He never told me about the bats, though!" She collapsed by her mother, pulling her legs to her chest; Edgar imitated her position beside her. "They were everywhere…getting in my hair, and my clothes…"

Meredith hugged her as Edgar cooed sadly. "It's okay dear. The bats were probably more frightened of you than you were of them." She wanted to snort at her own weak response; she herself had certainly not felt that way when -

Best not to finish that thought.

Shelley shook her head. "But then they left me…and they went to Edgar. They didn't even touch him. They just…flew around him."

Meredith was silent for a long time. Finally she said softly, "They feel a kinship to him, I think. He is a Bat Boy."

Shelley nodded. "That's sort of what I thought."

Meredith stroked back Shelley's mussed hair. "It was a terrifying experience, Shelley…but you weren't harmed…and neither was Edgar. Perhaps you should just forget about it."

Shelley sighed. "I'm trying, Mom." She got up, Edgar following happily behind, paused, then turned back and said, "But I don't think I'll be going back to that cave again."

* * *

"Where you going now, Mom?"

Meredith packed in the last of her syringes and pulled on her lab coat. "I need to go to the office. I have to check out the samples of blood in the cows."

"Why?"

She sighed. "For some reason, the farmers believe that it is Edgar preying on their cows, _and_ that he is the one who killed Roy."

"But Edgar never leaves the house!"

"We both know that, but they don't."

"It's stupid!"

"I know that, dear. But I still need evidence."

"What kind of evidence?" she asked curiously.

"Venom. Poison. They think Edgar's drinking their cows' blood."

"So?"

"I told them that if Edgar had bitten them -"

"Which he hasn't!" Shelley interjected.

"_I know, dear_. I told them that if Edgar had bitten them, he would leave some sort of venom or poison behind, like a bat. And if I show them that there's no toxins in the blood -"

"They'll lay off Edgar."

"Exactly."

Shelley followed her mom out the door. "Mom, why do they hate him so much?"

Meredith threw in her bag. "People are afraid of what they don't understand or don't know, Shelley, or if a person just looks different from them. It's just part of human nature."

"Well, human nature sucks," Shelley grumbled.

"That's good, dear." Meredith got into the car. "Take care of things for me, okay?"

"'Kay. Bye Mom."

Shelley trotted back inside and, finding Edgar following her like a devoted puppy, conceived of a way to distract him.

"See Edgar, this is television."

"Tele…?"

"Yes, television." She plopped them both on the sofa and flipped on the television. Edgar nearly fell off the back of the sofa at the sudden cacophony of sounds and images.

"Hey, get back here! Look, it's not scary." She turned down the volume and flipped to a cartoon series. "Oh, come look at this one! C'mon Edgar, this stuff is funny."

Edgar sat next to her, then leaped off the sofa to examine the strange device. He touched the screen and jumped back at the slight electrical tingling that ran through him.

"You're so weird Edgar," Shelley laughed from her seat.

"Weird?"

"Yes, weird. Very, very weird." She sat up. "Okay, this show goes on a while, so you just sit here…" She patted her vacated spot, "… and enjoy the TV. I have-"

He got up and started to follow her up to her room. She glared at him, pointed at the television and said, "TV. Now."

He barely glanced at it. "Shelley? Where you going?"

She sighed. "I'm going to my room. I have a ton of homework."

"Homework?"

"Yes. We have to go to school, where people teach you stuff and give you more stuff to do at home."

"That's why you left?"

"Left?"

"Today. You went away for a long time."

"You noticed that? Didn't Mom take you to her office?"

"Didn't go."

"Oh. Well then…yeah. I went to school."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because we have to."

"Why do you have to?"

She flung her hands up. "I don't know! Parents don't want us around all the time so they invented a place to stick us for six hours? Don't ask me!"

She really was ruining her mother's hard work, Shelley thought, watching him tilt his head in puzzlement. "Look," she said, "never mind all that. You want to follow me, go on ahead, but you'll be really bored."

She went up the stairs two at a time, Edgar following just a few steps behind.

"Okay, what to do, what to do…" She wandered around her messy room, picking up clothing and piling them haphazardly on her wardrobe. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Edgar scrambling on to the bed next to the desk to watch. She sighed and tried to put him out of her mind. "So...papers -"

He sniffed at a sheet. "Papers -"

"Textbooks -"

"Text…books…?"

"Edgar, stop that – pencils -"

"Pen…cils…?"

"Notebook-"

"Book?" He held up a battered, spiral-bound notebook. Shelley snatched it away.

"Yes, notebook." She placed it on her desk next to the teetering pile of objects already collected. "Okay, so I have an essay…" She dove for a fluttering paper. "But that's not due for a week, so…what else…math…not for two days…lab…worksheet, worksheet…damn, I have too much to do..."

She moved about the room, snatched her literature book from Edgar, then sat down and started scribbling. Edgar pulled up another chair and leaned over to watch her write.

"Edgar, I can't work when you're doing that," Shelley hissed.

"Oh." He drew back and settled on watching Shelley instead.

"Edgar," she snarled. "You're still looking at me."

"Sorry." He moved to the other side of the room. Yet still she could feel his eyes on her.

She slammed down her pencil. "Okay, I can't work like this." She shoved him off the chair and out the door. "Out. Out!"

"Shelley -"

"OUT!"

She shut the door in his face.

Edgar went downstairs to the television. He watched passively as the commercial ended and a cartoon came on.

Half an hour later Shelley joined him.

"What're you watching?" she asked, looking at the screen. She raised her eyebrows. "A...soap opera."

Edgar didn't answer, intent on watching.

"Okay, whatever floats your boat." She flopped down beside him and tried not to snort as more and more inconceivable plot twists were piled on the actors.

Onscreen, a man and a woman were kissing. The woman whispered to the man, "I love you."

The man murmured back (_his acting is _horrible_,_ Shelley thought to herself), "I love you too."

They started taking their clothes off...

"Okay! Enough television!" Shelley suddenly said, turning the TV off. Edgar didn't notice.

_I love you._

_Now what did that mean?_

He blinked. Had the program ended? He hopped madly away towards the bookshelf.

"Now what?" Shelley wondered aloud to nobody in particular.

He came back with a book.

"'The Ugly Duckling'?" she said in disbelief. "Didn't Mom read this to you already?"

"You didn't," he answered.

"Well…I mean…Oh, fine. Sit down." She turned the smooth, thick pages and began reading, feeling rather foolish.

"'_It was lovely summer weather in the country, and the golden corn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looked beautiful. In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest, watching for her young brood to hatch.'"_

She had only just reached the point when the ugly duckling hatched when the doorbell rang.

"Darn it, now what?" She leaped over the back of the sofa and landed halfway across the room in one movement, before running to the door to fling it open.

It was Rick, and not just him: he had with him his brother and sister, Ron and Ruthie, in tow.

"Rick!" she hissed. "What are you doing here?"

Rick laughed, not put off at all by her anger. "I wanted to see you!"

"Well then, why are _they -_"She indicated the two younger children "- with you?"

"I told 'em about the Bat Boy, and they wanted to see him." He peered inside. "He's still with you, right? Man, it would totally suck if your mom decided to put it down now-"

"_You told them_?" Shelley exclaimed, ignoring his last words. "You weren't supposed to tell anybody!"

"Aw c'mon Shel! They're my brother and sister! They oughta know!"

"Ricky!" Ruthie, the youngest, shrieked. "Ricky, I see it! Can we go in, please please _please_?"

"You what?" Shelley turned around and saw Edgar who, instead of staying hidden behind the sofa, had come out and was watching them curiously. "Edgar, get out of here! Go back!" He scampered up the stairs and settled himself on the edge, watching carefully.

To Rick, Shelley snarled, "No you cannot come in, my mom'll kill you! I'll meet you at your place or something, just get out of here!"

"Aw, come on!" he protested. "It'll be fun! We'll just hang around in your room…" He put an arm up on the door frame, "…while my brother and sister play with the freak everyone's been talkin' about."

She blinked. "What do you mean, 'everyone's been talking about' – Hey!" He shoved his way in. "Stop it!"

Rick ignored her and whistled at Edgar. "Hey, Bat Boy! Come on down, let's have a look at you." He winked at his siblings. "Ugly thing, ain't he?"

Shelley growled, "He is not a _thing_ – Edgar, stay there!"

"Oh he's so ugly!" Ruthie jabbered. "Just like you said Rick!" She waved cheerfully at Edgar, who came clambering down the steps. "Look Ron! He knows how to come! Like our old doggy!"

"He's not a _pet_, Ruthie!" Shelley hissed. "Edgar, don't come down here!"

"Whoa, Shelley, you never said he could walk!" Rick exclaimed as Edgar started coming closer. "What other tricks can he do?"

"What part of 'not a pet' did you not understand?"

"Oh yeah? What about the last time we met?" Rick lowered his voice, adopting a hunched over position. "He was sittin' quietly in a corner, like one of them lions, you know, pacin' around. Just waitin' for me to get closer. He kept makin' sounds…lurin' me, see? And when I got to close – WHAM!" He leaped at his younger siblings and they shrieked on cue. "He tries to rip my head off!"

"Rick, he didn't do that!"

"But now it's the three of us against one of him -"

"Shut up, Rick -"

"-and he won't get the better of us! Will you, bat freak?"

"STOP IT!" Shelley shrieked, getting right up to Rick's face. "Shut your big, fat mouth right now, Rick!"

Rick's face went dark red. He snarled, "I'll say whatever the hell I want, Shelley." And then he pushed her back.

Edgar hissed.

Shelley turned and screamed. "Edgar, don't!"

Too late. Edgar grabbed Rick, and sank his fangs into the boy's neck. Blood spurted into his mouth as Ron shrieked, flailing wildly.

"OH MY GOD!"

"EDGAR LET GO!"

"HE'S KILLED HIM!"

"KILL IT! KILL IT! KILL IT!"

Shelley wrapped her arms around Edgar's body and heaved, flinging halfway across the room, before collapsing at Rick's side.

"RICK! RICK!"

"HE'S KILLED MY BROTHER!" Ron shrieked, leaping at Edgar and punching wildly. "YOU KILLED MY BROTHER YOU BAT FREAK! I'LL KILL YOU -"

"Get away from him Ron!" Shelley yelled, dragging the crying boy away. She flung herself around at Edgar, who cowered at the anger in her eyes. "EDGAR, GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

Edgar half ran, half crawled away, and Shelley tore away her sweater and pressed it to Rick's neck, the heavy flow of blood staining it scarlet.

"Ron, hold this – Ruthie, hold him down – hold him, I said! – I need to call the doctor!"

* * *

Read and Review, please.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Meredith slid the next sample under her microscope and sighed. Nothing.

The last four slides had been equally hopeless – no sign of any toxins, bacteria, or viruses. This would be good for Edgar's case – but as the town veterinarian she was obligated to find the cause of death for all the cows. The ones with their throats slashed – that had been obvious, and had Sheriff Reynolds scouring the town for the culprit. The ones that simply keeled over and died? Not so much.

She placed the slide carefully back into its box and flicked off the microscope. She could only hope the disease wouldn't pass onto the other animals. She took out a test tube filled halfway with blood, and was on the verge of extracting a sample when the phone rang. She used her rolling chair to slide to the phone on the wall, still holding the test tube.

"Veterinarian's office, Mrs. Parker speaking."

"Meredith? It's the Sheriff."

"Hello Sheriff." It must be about the cows, she thought. "Look, I'm in my lab right now. I can't find anything in the cows' blood. It's like they just starved to death."

"Meredith, I'm not calling about the cows." He sounded tense.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "Did you find the killer?"

"No. It's – look, you should've told us. You've got the entire town in an uproar!"

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "Tell what? I don't know anything about the disease -"

"Forget the damn cows, Meredith! I'm calling about the freaking Bat Boy you hid at your house!"

The test tube slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor. Meredith didn't even notice. The sheriff continued through her stunned silence. "See, the Taylor kids, they came over to your house and found out."

Shelley …

"And the thing -"

"Edgar."

"What?"

"His name is Edgar."

"Yeah, sure. Look, it bit Rick Taylor. He went into convulsions, he's in the hospital! The entire town's after him, Mrs. Taylor especially! You have to get down to the station right now!"

"I will. Sheriff, what did you do with Edgar?"

"Left him at his home. He was too scared to come down, and I couldn't take him into custody anyway – he was an animal, Meredith, he going wild when I tried to grab him…"

Meredith sighed, an ache coming back to her head. "Yes, thank you Sheriff. I will be over right away."

* * *

"I'm sorry Mrs. Taylor, but it seems your son has received a nasty bite and lost a great deal of blood. We also think he may be…infected with something. He is suffering from a high fever and was in convulsions when he arrived. We have him on antibiotics right now, but they don't seem to be doing any good."

Mrs. Taylor, an over-protective, sometimes highly aggressive woman, collapsed into hysterics, much like her daughter was doing. The doctor let her continue for a moment before saying over her screams, "We have Mrs. Parker on hand – she is currently housing the creature that attacked Mr. Taylor here."

Mrs. Taylor sniffed, wiping her tears with a huge handkerchief. "The creature? You mean – the Bat Boy?"

"Yes, and Mrs. Parker is doing her best to find a cure from it-"

Mrs. Taylor's tears of sadness changed to ones of hate with remarkable speed. "That _freak_ must die for what it did to my poor son!"

"Yeah! Die!" Ron echoed maliciously.

"And I don't want that Parker woman near my boy!" she continued stridently. "It's because of her that my little boy is so sick!"

The doctor said nervously, "Now, Mrs. Parker is a good woman and the best veterinarian this town has -"

"She's a maniac! An idiot! The thing should be put down! Destroyed!"

"Mrs. Taylor, please! Think of your son!" The last was a desperate ploy – but it worked.

"My little baby boy!" Mrs. Taylor cried. "Let me see him!" Without waiting for permission she pushed past the doctor and dragged herself and her two children in. The doctor sighed and closed the door, though even that couldn't drown out Mrs. Taylor's cries of "Oh my poor Rick!" and "My beautiful boy!"

* * *

"I'm telling you Sheriff, Edgar is not dangerous!"

"He bit my boy!" Mrs. Taylor shrieked.

"Your _boy _provoked him!" Meredith retorted.

"We have the testimony of her daughter, Mrs. Taylor," the sheriff conceded. "She said they were making fun of him and that Edgar only acted in self-defense."

"He's an animal!" Mrs. Taylor growled, starting to sound much like one herself. "If you weren't such a crying coward, Meredith, you would shoot that thing right now!"

Meredith didn't move, but her face was quite pale. "Mrs. Taylor," she said quietly. "In the category of animals who need to be shot, I think _your_ son would fit the requirements nicely."

Mrs. Taylor didn't go pale; she went beet red. "Say that again," she hissed.

"Ladies," the sheriff interrupted nervously. "Now Mrs. Parker, there is the matter of the boy. I've decided he was not in control of his actions, and can't be jailed -"

Mrs. Taylor screamed, "You've _what_-!"

"- being a minor and all, but there is also the matter of the carnival."

"Yes!" Mrs. Taylor cried triumphantly. "You have stolen a FREAK from a carnival! You will go to prison for this-"

"_Mrs. Taylor_." The sheriff interrupted her mid-sentence. He pointed to the door. "You are not needed anymore," he said calmly. "Please wait outside."

The woman visibly deflated. "But -" she stuttered.

"_Now_," the sheriff pointed out the door with great finality. Quiet now, Mrs. Taylor left the room.

Meredith quickly said, "Sheriff, I don't know if you saw Edgar in that cage, but I had to save him. He was starved, abused, caged – I couldn't let him live like that!"

"I know that, Meredith, but you still stole something of -"

"_Stole_? A person is not property, Sheriff Reynolds!"

"An animal is."

Meredith went even paler. "You're not saying -"

He replied quietly, "Harlan Ellis believes him to be an animal. He is demanding its return, and once this gets out, the entire town will be too."

"They couldn't be so cruel!" she cried. "He's a boy, a harmless -!"

"I saw him myself, Meredith," Sheriff Reynolds reminded her. "And yes, he is, perhaps, human underneath…but he was acting crazy when I was there. And I can't keep Ellis from him forever." He sighed, looking at her great sympathy. "I can give you a week to train him into a proper young man…but after that…"

Meredith nodded numbly. "Thank you Sheriff. I know you did your best."

"I'm sorry Meredith. If it helps…I saw the boy. He was frightened…but he was walking, and Shelley has said that he has started to talk. I think you have a good start there."

"Thank you," she repeated. She sat up. "I…need to go home now."

"Of course." He paused. "I'll be by in a week….Good luck, Meredith."

* * *

Meredith was almost attacked by a hysterical Shelley when she arrived home. She, however, was weary from Mrs. Taylor's aggressive cries, stressed over the prospect of educating Edgar – in a week! – and frankly, quite angry at Shelley for creating the situation in the first place.

"Mom, is Rick alright?" Shelley cried. "Is he okay? Did he wake up? Is he -?"

"We are not discussing that right now, Shelley," her mother replied icily.

"What?"

"We are going to talk about why exactly you decided to let Rick _and_ his siblings in, why you let them make fun of Edgar, and how you let him bite the Taylor boy and create all this trouble!"

"I didn't – Rick knew -" Shelley stuttered, "Mom, I didn't let Edgar bite Rick! Edgar just grabbed him and started biting! I tried to push him off -"

"You let in three people when I specifically told you to keep Edgar a secret! The sheriff was going to arrest him; that awful man from the carnival wants to take him away and put him back in a cage!"

"He…wants to do that?" Shelley whispered.

"Yes, Shelley, and you know what makes me really angry? That this could have all been prevented if not for you!"

"Hey!" her daughter yelled. "This isn't my fault! I -"

"We are not arguing over this, Shelley!" Meredith raged. "I don't even know how to punish you for this! Just – go to your room! You are grounded!"

"Grounded?" She had never been grounded in her life.

"For a week! No mall, no going outside, nothing!"

"That's not fair!"

"YOUR ROOM, SHELLEY!"

Shelley screamed in frustration and stomped up the stairs, ending with a loud slam of her door.

But even now Meredith's work wasn't over. She would need some sample of Edgar's venom (for it seemed she had been correct in assuming there was something in his fangs) to examine. She did not think whatever was in Edgar's fangs was lethal, but the only way to prove it was through close comparison between a sample and Rick's blood. And if she could contrive an antidote, that might make acceptance of Edgar slightly easier.

Rick Taylor had been rushed to the town hospital (operated by only one doctor and a handful of apathetic nurses), where he had to be strapped to a bed, a difficult feat as he was a rather burly young man. His convulsions had stopped only when the nurse issued a sedative, and his troubles had not ended there: they had to treat him for extensive blood loss as well.

The doctor would be working with her for a treatment, for which she was grateful. She already had to deal with the cow epidemic, not to mention the pets and Edgar's education. At least it was the doctor dealing with the overbearing mother of the boy and her rambunctious brood, and not Meredith.

Meanwhile, Shelley had locked herself in her room. But her anger grew in the close confines – anger at the unfairness of her punishment, at her mother for issuing it, perhaps even at Rick for coming over – but most of all at the stupid freak sitting in his room who had to go and bite her boyfriend.

No wonder the whole town thought he was a monster. She was on the verge of picking up a torch herself.

Edgar was hiding in his room, but looked up when Shelley stomped in. His face lit up.

He started to say, "Shelley -"

A loud smack cracked the air as Edgar's head was almost thrown back by the force of her slap.

"How dare you," Shelley hissed, "you stupid _ugly freak_!"

He fell to the floor and tried to crawl away, making piteous whining noises, but Shelley grabbed his arm and jerked him back to face her.

"Don't you dare run away!" she shrieked. "You stay and listen to me! You're not a boy or a human! You're just a sniveling, crawling animal who likes to drink blood!"

Edgar struggled helplessly, a crimson splotch on his cheek where Shelley had hit him, his pale skin making the contrast even more distinct.

"No! Do you know what you are?" Shelley spat. "You're just a worthless – piece – of – _shit_!"

She threw him off and he collapsed to the floor, holding his arm.

She turned around and, without a second glance, stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut.

* * *

Meredith took a breath. She had no doubt Edgar would accept having a tiny bit of venom extracted. But she couldn't contain a tiny smidgen of guilt over putting him in a rather uncomfortable situation.

She would have to do it sometime, though.

She knocked and entered his room. Edgar was nowhere to be seen. For a moment she feared he had run off, but after a quick search she found him hiding in the darkness under his bed. She called him out, failed to persuade him, and pulled him out instead, and gasped when she saw the red mark on his face.

"Who did this, Edgar?" she asked softly. She led him to the bathroom and wiped at his face. He shook his head.

"Edgar? Tell me, please."

Still he refused to answer.

There was only one person who could have done it – Meredith simply didn't want to believe it.

"Was it…Shelley?"

Edgar didn't say anything, but it was enough.

Meredith was so angry she couldn't speak. For her daughter to act in such a way was beyond being merely insensitive; it was cruel. Edgar had been abused and locked up all his life, and it had taken weeks to adjust him to his new surroundings. Now with one blow, Shelley had ruined everything.

"Edgar," she said, pulling the boy over, and growing unnerved when he didn't meet her gaze. "Edgar – no, look at me."

She tilted his head up.

"Listen to me – are you listening? Forget what Shelley did, or what she said, alright?"

Edgar tried to pull away.

"Edgar!" She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You will forget what she said! Do you hear me? Edgar!" She gave him a shake. "You are not a freak, or a monster, or whatever else she said! You are a beautiful, compassionate boy and we love you."

He finally looked up with some form of interest. "Love?"

"Yes. Even Shelley, though she may not be showing it." She gazed directly into his eyes. "Do you understand me, Edgar? Do you believe me?"

He didn't move. Meredith didn't say anything. How had her daughter affected this boy so deeply?

"Edgar," she said softly. "Just remember that, okay? I'm going to go talk to Shelley now."

She kissed the top of his head and left the room, striding angrily to her daughter's.

"Shelley!" The girl snapped up from her bed. "How _dare _you go and hit Edgar! Do you know what you've done to him? He's terrified; he almost died of fright!"

"Well maybe he should die!" Shelley yelled.

"Do not _ever_ say that to me, Shelley!"

"He bit Rick! He bit my boyfriend, Mom! And now the police are going to come and take him away, and I hope they kill the ugly freak!"

"_Do not_ call him a freak!"

"Freak freak freak freak FREAK!"

"SHELLEY!" Meredith shouted. "Unless you apologize to Edgar right now, you're grounded!"

"I thought I'm already grounded," she replied sarcastically.

"For the next _month_!"

"Then I guess I'm grounded forever, Mom, because I'M NEVER APOLOGIZING TO HIM!"

Shelley threw herself on her bed, leaving Meredith to slam the door behind her.

* * *

Edgar knocked gently at the door.

"Shelley?"

No answer. He tried the knob but found it locked.

"Shelley?"

Shelley went to the closed door and yelled, "Get away freak!"

He jumped back, heard her walk away, then mumbled, "Okay." He waited for her to open the door, and when she didn't, curled up on the floor and closed his eyes.

He had a lot to think about.

* * *

I'm liking this story less and less. I like my Vignettes more.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks to all the people (who am I kidding, 2 people) who reviewed! Here's the next chapter.

**CHAPTER 8**

_The large egg broke, and a young one crept forth crying, "Peep, peep." It was very large and ugly. The mother duck stared at it and exclaimed, "It is very large and not at all like the others. I wonder if it really is a turkey. We shall soon find it out, however when we go to the water. It must go in, if I have to push it myself."_

_The next day the mother duck took her young brood down to the water, and jumped in with a splash. "Quack, quack," cried she, and one after another the little ducklings jumped in. The water closed over their heads, but they came up again in an instant, and swam about quite prettily with their legs paddling under them as easily as possible, and the ugly duckling was also in the water swimming with them._

"_Oh," said the mother duck, "that is not a turkey; how well he uses his legs, and how upright he holds himself! He is my own child, and he is not so very ugly after all if you look at him properly."_

_The Ugly Duckling_

* * *

Shelley, yawning widely, did not see Edgar lying on the floor by her door and bumped her foot into him.

He, already awake, looked up at her and said, "Shelley -"

She stepped over him, though not before saying, "Get out the of the way, _freak_."

He followed her. "I didn't mean to -"

"Go away."

"Shelley, please -"

"Shut up."

"I didn't -"

She turned and screamed at him, "I said _shut up_! I don't ever want to talk to you again!"

She stomped off, leaving him behind.

* * *

Edgar didn't cry, didn't mope, didn't show any signs, at least not when any of the family could see him, and certainly not in front of Shelley. But he seemed, to Meredith at least, to withdraw slightly, becoming a bit more hesitant about talking, about moving, and especially about eating. The family had accepted his strange eating habits, and it seemed he had too. But now, he seemed reluctant to eat, sometimes staring at his bowl for minutes on end before drinking - and even then, with great hesitation. Edgar, it seemed, had discovered the joys of guilt, and was intent on winning back Shelley's favor; Shelley, however, was just as intent on ignoring him.

But it grew increasingly difficult for Shelley to do so, especially since she was stuck in the house. The idiotic boy followed her everywhere, staring at her with those large eyes. It was funny at first, creepy after a couple of days, and finally downright annoying. At the end of the week she was seriously contemplating apologizing just so she could escape the house.

Her mother, of course, ignored her and concentrated all her energies on teaching Edgar. And he, knowing the danger he was in, while also secretly hoping Shelley would notice, doubled his efforts. The effects were astounding – he learned more in that one week than he had from the last month of constant training. As they reached the end of the week Meredith was confident that even the ignorant townspeople would accept him should he walk amongst them. But it did not have the effect Edgar truly wanted – to get Shelley to warm to him again.

There was a chilly tension between mother and daughter, broken only by Meredith's constant updates on Rick Taylor's progress and the beginnings of an antidote.

"Well, he's no longer going into fits," Meredith said one day. "That's a good sign. But he doesn't wake up either – just drifts in and out of bad dreams and such. There's also something wrong with his blood - it just won't clot. And I wish you'd stop bugging me Shelley. One day doesn't bring that many changes to a person."

Another day, after coming home from the lab, she commented, "Whatever is in Edgar's fangs is definitely in Rick's bloodstream. But nothing like it is in the cows. Maybe Ned will stop trying to raise hell at the town meetings."

Sometimes she talked about her attempts at an antidote. "I'm trying to create an anti-venom, like they use for snake bites, but it's not working very well. Something about the molecular structure…I think I need to send it to the scientists at Wheeling for further analysis."

And Edgar waited. He waited for some sign that she might like him again. And when she didn't, he wondered if it was because of him.

When he had first seen her, he had thought her the most beautiful person he had ever seen. And no matter what she did, what she said, she was perfect. There was almost a bit of worship in his regard for her: to him, she could do no wrong.

He could not talk much, yet Meredith had been correct: he understood almost everything that was said to him. He had read from the Parker's shelves and, under Shelley's now non-existent care, learned much about how people acted. He sought to imitate them, but the scars of the past remained, and there were many days he wished to curl in his closet and hope that the well-intentioned family would leave him alone.

But he had never thought of his appearance – had never, in fact, entertained the idea that he not only ate differently, but looked differently too. This was to be expected – the only reflective surface he had ever encountered were the rare puddles of water gathering on the floor of his cage. Nor had he ever thought that his drinking blood was something disgusting or was something that was his fault. He had seen how people treated him, but had not understood why. And when he learned more of the world and tried to turn back to his memories and attempt to understand, he couldn't – his memories were foggy and indistinct, consisting mostly of pain and darkness and confusion.

He had been taken in by this family, and loved, and taught that he was no different from anybody else. But, he thought, looking at himself in the mirror, he was very different. He had seen what other men looked like, but only now, truly gazing at himself, did he see how Shelley saw him.

And…he recalled the words from the Bible Mrs. Parker had lent him. The drinking of blood was considered profane. But he couldn't help himself. He had struggled to digest the food Meredith gave him, and had failed, vomiting up the food almost as soon as he swallowed it. But if he couldn't control it, was it instinct that made him do it? But only animals relied on instincts. Humans could control themselves.

So he was an animal. A freak who had bitten the boy Shelley liked. He had made her unhappy because of his need to drink blood. Therefore...he deserved whatever hatred she showed him. It felt like a physical blow to admit it.

He lay down on his bed and balled himself into a fetal position, feeling very, very lonely.

* * *

Shelley was bored – no computer, no television, no music. "Read a book," her mother had said, "or go apologize to Edgar." Her mother said that every time she bemoaned her state, and Shelley was seriously considering taking her advice.

Finally she hauled herself up and plodded down the hallway until she stood at Edgar's door. She hesitated, hand just above the doorknob. _Grit your teeth and do it_, she thought to herself. _You don't even have to mean it. Say you're sorry, and have Edgar go down and tell Mom you did it. He'll accept anything; he'll probably even think it's real. Go on. Do it._

Her hand was practically on the doorknob when it opened, and she found herself staring into Edgar's shocked face.

"Oh." She groped for words. "Hey. Uh… can I come in?"

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded and stood aside. She sat on his bed, bouncing on it, wondering how to start.

She said, "Edgar -"

He interrupted. "Shelley…I'm sorry."

She stood for several seconds, gaping. After a moment she regained her voice to say, "Sorry…for what?"

He continued quickly, looking at the floor. "I want to apologize for making you unhappy."

"Oh…" was all she could say, part in shock, part in surprise at how he had simply _changed_. This wasn't the Edgar she remembered - this was a much stiffer, less innocent Edgar.

"I did not mean to hurt the boy, and I am sorry," he finished.

"I…" Shelley struggled for a moment. "Edgar, sit down." She patted the bed.

He sat down hesitantly.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, lapsing back into his fragmented speech. "So sorry…Forgive me?"

He rolled over to wipe at his face. Shelley waited for him to turn around before moving towards him and wrapping her arms around his thin body.

"Edgar, I don't forgive you" she said steadily, and felt tension pull his body stiff. "Because there's nothing to forgive."

He looked at her with great bewilderment. "But…"

She continued, "Look, I'm the one who called you names, and hit you. And ignored you. It's my fault, really."

"But…" He was deeply confused. "I bit him. Aren't I…bad?"

She sighed. "No Edgar." She flopped on the bed beside him, finally understanding. "I mean, it's not like you control your…um…instinct, right? And he was yelling at you. I don't think you meant to hurt him." She eyed him. "Did you?"

He quickly shook his head.

"Good. Now stop crying, okay?"

She patted his head tentatively, and was felt strangely gratified when he leaned into her embrace. She pulled out a handkerchief and wiped off the remaining tears. Edgar rubbed at his face, at the feel of the cloth, with the curiosity of an animal.

"Shelley -" he started to ask, but was interrupted by the growl of his own stomach.

Shelley giggled. "Are you hungry Edgar?"

He dipped his head.

"Well come on then."

She pulled him downstairs and brought out a bowl of blood. "Here. Why didn't you say something before?"

He didn't answer, mostly because he was busy slurping down blood as fast as he could.

"Edgar? Hello?" She tapped on his back. "Hey Edgar, you listening to me?"

He lifted his head for one second to nod, then dunked himself back into the bowl.

She sighed and settled for waiting. When he was finished he sat back on his legs and stared at her almost adoringly. Which was wrong. Very wrong. She had a boyfriend. In the hospital! What kind of person would abandon their lover in their time of need?

"Edgar…stop looking at me like that."

"I like looking at you this way."

"Well I don't!"

"Sorry." He bowed his head.

Why did he always make her feel guilty this way? She asked, "Well, why do you look at me like that? It's like you want to… I don't know…eat me or something."

Horror crossed his face. "I don't want to eat you!"

"Okay, bad choice of words. It's like you…like me."

"I do like you."

She groaned. "Nevermind."

"Okay," he said agreeably. As she left the room he hopped up and followed her, all the way back to her room.

"Shelley." He liked saying her name, but he had to ask. "Shelley, am I a freak?"

She knew those words would come to bite her in the butt. "No! How can you say that? Did you really believe me when I said that? I was angry."

He brought to mind his own reflection of himself. Shelley saw the flicker of self-loathing pass across his face, pulled him around. "Stop it Edgar. You're not a freak and you're not ugly, you're -" She flailed wildly around for another word, "different."

"Ugly?"

She winced. "No, a beautiful, smart, passionate boy," she said, grabbing his hands once more.

He looked down at their entwined hands. "Really?" he asked, suddenly the vulnerable, frightened child he had been.

"Really."


	9. Chapter 9

Before I go on, I just want to dedicate this chapter to Mystic Water Bender3, who not only consistently reviews my stories (thank you so much!) but has also written a Bat Boy story herself, one that far exceeds mine in excellence (especially this one - but I think you all know my everlasting shame about this one). Go read it!

**CHAPTER 9**

_The other ducks stared, and said, "Look, here comes another brood! And what a queer looking object one of them is; we don't want him here," and then one flew out and bit him in the neck._

"_Let him alone," said the mother; "he is not doing any harm."_

"_Yes, but he is so big and ugly," said the spiteful duck "and therefore he must be turned out. The others are very pretty children, all but that one; I wish his mother could improve him a little."_

"_He is not very pretty" replied the mother; "but he has a very good disposition, and swims as well or even better than the others. I think he will grow up pretty," and then she stroked his neck and smoothed the feathers, saying, "I think he will grow up strong, and able to take care of himself."_

_- The Ugly Duckling_

* * *

Ellis looked up as the sobbing woman dumped herself into his chair, the piece of furniture creaking slightly under her weight.

"May I help you, Ms.…?"

The woman gave a loud sniff, blew her nose into a large handkerchief, then whimpered, "Mrs. Taylor. I hear you are the owner of the horrible bat freak that bit my poor baby boy?"

"_Was_ the owner, Mrs. Taylor, and I must offer my condolences about your son. I did try to warn you, of course…"

"And you were right!" the woman wailed, enormous tears sliding down her face and neck. "Oh Mr. Ellis, you've gotta save my poor baby! He's lyin' in the hospital, writhin' and shriekin' his dear head off – why, it just makes my heart break!"

"I know Mrs. Taylor."

"And that Meredith Parker! She's the one been hidin' the thing in his house all this time! And she won't put it down!"

"I'm so sorry Mrs. Taylor," Ellis said soothingly. "You know I've wanted it dead ever since it escaped. But you needn't worry. I will be dropping by with the sheriff tomorrow morning. We will pick up the creature and have it killed. And," he said with great generosity, "I will give you its head for display.

"Oh…Thank you Mr. Ellis!" Mrs. Taylor continued between long sobs. "Oh please, kill the bat freak! Help me save my son, and keep my other children safe!"

Ellis nodded gently, then left his desk and placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. She cried even louder, grabbing his hand and sobbing into it as well.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Taylor. By this time tomorrow, the Bat Boy will be dead."

* * *

There were only a couple of days before the sheriff would come, and Shelley devoted all her time to making up for her little tantrum. She and Meredith worked together constantly to drill him in speech, in manners, in social mores.

And gradually, Shelley came to see the burgeoning intelligence inside the boy. He was a genius - there was no other way to say it. He read, it seemed, at twice the speed of others; he absorbed every bit of knowledge. Before long he was the one tutoring Shelley in her homework, though always in a shy and diffident manner, as if she were the smarter one.

Those were what happened during the daytime.

When Shelley had steadfastly refused to talk to him, she had also taken to locking the door to her bedroom. During the nights, she would sometimes hear him walk about outside, never coming in, merely waiting. As the week neared its end though, he started to give up. And the nightmares came back with a vengeance, increasing in frequency as the days were counted down. Sometimes Shelley would hear her mother go running to his room after a particularly vivid one.

Now, she let him back in. Sometimes she was awake when he came, and he would lie next to her and sleep peacefully. Sometimes she was asleep, and would wake in the morning to find him curled in some spot in her room. Either way, her presence seemed to reassure him, more so even than Meredith's, which Shelley found quite puzzling. Sometimes Meredith would try to get him to actually talk a bit about his dreams, but he would shake his head and run from the room. He was ashamed of his nightmares, ashamed of his fears and of the memories it brought back. He kept it locked up inside his head, where it should remain.

And finally, the big day arrived.

Meredith smiled but pretended not to notice when Shelley and Edgar came down, she holding his arm down the steps. The light and energy in him was back. Shelley had finally apologized.

But the battle was only half won. Today the sheriff would be coming over to inspect Edgar's progress. And though she knew that Edgar was virtually a normal boy – albeit a shy one – she couldn't keep back a twinge of worry. After all, what if Edgar suddenly lapsed back into his animal state? What if he refused to speak in the presence of strangers?

It was useless to worry. He was coming in a few hours. She had prepared Edgar as best as she could. Now it was all up to him.

At the table, Shelley was doing her own pep talk.

"You'll do fine," she said quietly, patting his back. They had dressed him in a shirt and pants – nothing too fancy, just something any normal teenage boy would wear. If it weren't for the fangs, pointy ears and the scarring peeking through his sleeves, he would look like a normal young man.

"Just be yourself," Meredith suggested.

Shelley rolled her eyes. "Edgar, be yourself, but don't run around crazily or try and drink his blood, okay?"

Edgar nodded.

Shelley added, "Don't forget to actually talk to him. You don't need to say much, but answer him, okay?"

"Sit up straight. Look at his face, not the floor. Try not to fidget."

"Or drool."

"Shelley…"

"Sorry Mom."

"You will be fine," Meredith said firmly. "We all have faith in you, Edgar."

Edgar gazed at the faces of the two people he trusted most in the world, and felt a little bit of hope rise in his chest. He could not, would not, disappoint them.

The doorbell rang. Shelley smashed a plate on the floor.

Meredith ran to the door.

"Hello Sheriff -" She froze when she saw the other man.

"Hello Meredith," the sheriff said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "This is Mr. Ellis, from the carnival."

Meredith nodded stiffly. "Hello Mr. Ellis."

He greeted her just as shortly. "Good morning to you, Mrs. Parker."

The sheriff said, "Could we see the Bat Boy, Meredith?"

"Edgar," she emphasized. "His name is Edgar."

She led them inside, where they sat on her sofa. From the kitchen came Shelley and Edgar. The poor boy froze in the doorway upon seeing his former captor.

"Edgar, this is Sheriff Reynolds," Meredith said, neglecting to introduce Ellis. "Sheriff, you know Shelley. And this is Edgar."

The three sat across from the two men. The sheriff eyed Edgar. He was acting quite differently from the last time they had met. He noted his demeanor, his dress, and narrowed his eyes slightly when he saw the white, raised tissue crossing Edgar's wrists and neck. Edgar did not notice; he was staring at the floor and only looked up at a sharp nudge in the ribs from Shelley.

"Good morning Edgar," Sheriff Reynolds said respectfully.

"Good morning," he answered, and Meredith and Shelley were rewarded with a brief flash of surprise across the men's faces.

"Now, we are not here to take you away Edgar," the sheriff continued. "Merely to talk about what happened with Rick Taylor a week ago."

Edgar nodded, reaching unconsciously for Shelley's hand.

"Now then, Shelley told me he was teasing you, is that true?" the sheriff said in a business-like manner. Ellis watched from his seat silently, observing the group expressionlessly.

"Yes," Edgar said. He could have nodded, but he wanted to use every opportunity to speak – to show he was human.

"Can you recall the events of that night?"

Edgar nodded once and began to talk. He spoke of how he and Shelley had been alone when Rick and his siblings came through the door. He told them what Shelley had said, how Rick had started teasing them. But then the story seemed to diverge. He told them that Shelley called Rick a bad name, that Rick pushed her, and that it was only then that he bit Rick.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow questioningly but didn't comment on the small change. He remembered how Edgar had reached for her, saw how he looked at her. The boy was clearly in love with Shelley, though both she and her mother appeared ignorant of this.

And who was he to ruin young love?

Edgar was finished. He looked nervously around; on either side of him, Shelley and Meredith were waiting, in equal trepidation. Sheriff Reynolds snapped shut his small pad and stood. "Thank you Meredith, and Edgar. We will still have to question Mr. Taylor when he is…fully conscious, but your story is very similar to Shelley's." He shuffled his notes a bit, then said, "Meredith, you have done some unbelievable work here."

Shelley sucked in a breath.

"You mean -" Meredith breathed.

"Edgar here is one of the nicest young men I've ever met," the sheriff said. "I see no reason to even think of him as an animal."

Meredith and Shelley both squealed and grabbed Edgar, hugging him tightly.

"Did you hear that Edgar?"

"You're going to stay! You're going to stay!"

Edgar was too stunned. He had passed the test, he wasn't going back to the cage? He looked at the two women hugging him and felt an overwhelming gratitude towards them both.

"You're staying Edgar!" Shelley cried, and then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Ellis's eyebrows rose several inches. "Aren't you happy, Edgar?"

"I'm…staying," he repeated, still in disbelief.

"You are, Edgar," Meredith said softly, stroking his arm. "You're here to stay, as long as you want."

"I stay," he repeated. He looked at both Meredith and Shelley. "Thank you," he said with such sincerity it made both women's hearts ache. "You did all this for me and I'm still not sure why…"

"Oh Edgar," Meredith said, hugging him. "It's because we love you."

"You're not…ashamed of me?" he asked hesitantly.

"Never," Shelley said firmly.

Ellis watched the entire scene with narrowed eyes. The sheriff, however, was eying Ellis balefully, daring him to disturb the scene. "_Any objections_, Mr. Ellis?" the sheriff growled.

Ellis turned to face the man, the movement looking unnatural. "No Sheriff," he said finally. "Nothing at all." He, too, stood up and, to everyone's surprise, went over to Edgar and held out his hand. Edgar froze in his seat.

"Well then, Edgar, it seems I was mistaken about you," he said evenly. Edgar shrank away from him. "You have done very good work here, Mrs. Parker."

Meredith barely nodded, her eyes fixed on him and Edgar.

He continued, "This is a fine young man here."

Even the sheriff was staring at him suspiciously. Edgar was gripping Shelley's hand so hard her blood was being cut off. He wanted to run away; he couldn't look at the man without dredging up memories of years of abuse.

Ellis spoke as if he had read Edgar's mind: "Then I hope, Edgar, you can forgive my past actions?"

Edgar shrank from answering. He bore no anger or vengeful desire against the man. Part of it was because much of the first seventeen years of his life were a haze; another was because, for all the man's mistreatment, he had still been Edgar's only caretaker during that time. Yet Edgar could not forget the years spent in a cage, loveless and abandoned.

As the man continued to hold out his hand Edgar felt a rising panic in him; he didn't know what to do or what the people expected him to say.

"Mr. Ellis," Meredith said, seeing Edgar's distress, "I do not think Edgar has an answer for you."

Ellis withdrew his hand. "That is to be expected," he said, seeming unfazed. "After all, I have not done much to earn the young man's trust. But should you ever feel the need to speak with me, my tent remains pitched on the open area. Good day."

He bowed slightly and left the house abruptly, before Meredith or Shelley could voice any of their concerns. The sheriff shrugged as he went.

"Funny man," he muttered, "hope he goes soon. Well," in a louder voice, "thank you Meredith, again, for letting me into your house."

"Of course, Sheriff."

"Let me know about any updates on that venom thing of yours."

"I will." She held open the door as he left. "Goodbye Sheriff Reynolds."

"Goodbye Meredith."

She shut the door and waited until he was out of sight before letting out an explosive gasp of relief. Behind her she heard Shelley and Edgar reacting in much the same way.

Shelley was the first to recover; overcome with giddiness she squealed and grabbed Edgar's hands. "We did it, Mom! They're gone and they can't take Edgar away!" She hopped around like a little girl, and Edgar, happy that she happy, hopped with her. It was so out of character that Meredith had to laugh.

"Yes! We did it!"

Now there was only the town to overcome. But Meredith, flushed with triumph, wasn't worried at all.

* * *

Setbacks occurred. The unsuccessful let them block them from their goals, made do with second best.

He, however, would overcome them.

Already he had received several angry visitors. The sheriff had personally called a town meeting to tell them of Edgar's continuing presence in Hope Falls. The reaction had been loud and angry, some going so far as to call for the resignation of the sheriff. Mayor Maggie, fearing a mob, had worked quickly to calm them down.

The little town was a bomb waiting to be explode.

And he would be the one to light the match.

Before he went to sleep, Edgar knelt at his bed. He had seen Shelley doing this, and Meredith had taught him its purpose.

"Dear God," he said quietly, "please make me into a normal boy. I don't want to complain – but please, could you get rid of my thirst for blood, and make me look normal?" He paused, then quickly added, "And please, could you make Shelley like me? Thank you. Amen."

He stood and rolled into bed, curling up under his sheets.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm feeling slightly depressed because of a little argument I've been having between another FanFiction writer :(. So here's another chapter to lift my mood. (And if any of you start reviewing me harshly just to get me depressed in hopes I'll put up another chapter earlier, I will...finish this threat...somehow...)

**CHAPTER 10**

_Hope Falls was isolated, in the middle of a vast area of woods and surrounded by mountains with their own hidden network of caves. It was far enough from Meredith and Thomas Parker's hometown that they hoped they could forget the past._

_Meredith placed a hand on her already-swelling stomach. Thomas glanced over from where he was, at the wheel of the car, and smiled._

"_Isn't it beautiful, Meredith?"_

"_Yes, very beautiful."_

"_They've even offered me a job – town veterinarian. They have farmers here too, you know – cow ranchers and such."_

"_Yes, I read that."_

"_You…could be my assistant again…after the baby is born."_

_Meredith said, after a long pause, "No, I don't think so, Thomas."_

"_Oh." He turned back. "That's alright then." After a moment, he placed a tentative hand on hers. "You do love me, don't you Meredith."_

_The words threatened to stick in her throat. "Of course I love you, Thomas."_

"_We will be happy here. You, me, and our baby."_

"_Yes Thomas."_

* * *

Dillon rubbed his eyes sleepily as he inspected his horse. Personally, he hadn't held with Ned's thoughts on Bat Boy. He had thought there was some kind of disease affecting the cows, one even Meredith Parker didn't know about. But now it was killing his horses too. Stuff that killed cows couldn't kill horses, could they?

Were the stories about the Bat Boy true then?

He didn't like to think so. He liked to think he was a calm, trustful man who always saw the good in people. And he was right to think it – he was a good, hardworking man. But this business with the Bat Boy, and right after their coal mines had dried up and their cows started to drop dead – it was like God had cursed their town. It made him wish the Reverend Hightower would hurry his revival up.

He placed the comb back in its holder and examined the smooth neck of the horse. The Bat Boy sucked blood, right? So shouldn't there be bite marks – like those two punctures they always showed in them vampire movies?

He couldn't see a thing. He lit a candle and placed it on a shelf near the stall.

A shadow suddenly darkened his vision and he whirled around, fist half raised in defense. He relaxed and dropped them when he recognized the man.

"Oh, it's you sir. I didn't-"

And then he stopped speaking altogether.

_

* * *

It was always dark in the basement._

_He lifted his head but couldn't hold it up for more than a few seconds. The heavy collar around his neck weighed him down and drained his already limited energy. His arms and shoulders ached from being tied behind his back for hours on end. Worst of all was the constant hunger gnawing at his stomach._

_The door to the cage opened and he flinched back from the flame of a candle. His owner, the only person he had ever known, came into the cage. He cowered fearfully, the collar bolted to the floor preventing him from moving back._

_The man paused in front of him and held something up. As soon as the smell wafted over his nostrils he was uncontrollable. He WANTED that blood – he wanted to sink his fangs into the flesh and rip it out – he was already straining at his bonds, snapping his jaws –_

_The man swore angrily and kicked him in the stomach. He cried out and doubled over, whimpering. The pain combined with his hunger was unbearable…_

_The man stepped over and he hissed weakly. Then his head was jerked up, right to the end of the chain, cutting into the back of his neck, and a leather strap inserted into his mouth._

_He started to shriek, to bite, to struggle against it, but the strap remained, and when he heard the door close he knew he was trapped still, bound inside a cage unable to feed, to move, or to even breathe… _

Shelley sat up suddenly. She could have sworn she'd heard…

No. It was silly. Probably a bad dream.

She turned over and saw Edgar half-sprawled over her bed, his head resting on the mattress but his body splayed on the ground, as if he'd been watching her sleep before succumbing to it as well.

She smiled and pulled him into bed, wrapping the covers around him and curling closer. Such a nice, sweet boy. He was the only one she would let into her bed without fear of…well, you know…

Edgar rolled closer, and she placed a hand on his face. He whimpered as she touched him and she jerked back. A moan escaped his now-clenched teeth. A sudden jerk almost sent him off the bed; Shelley grabbed him and hauled him closer. His body was drenching the bed – and her – with sweat.

A final cry sent him upright, gasping raggedly.

A few seconds passed and Edgar's breathing evened out. He lay back down on the bed, and she felt him curl up slightly. After a few moments, he reached over and took her hand in his own, grasping it gently.

Shelley rolled over. "Edgar?"

Instantly he let go, whispering, "I'm sorry…"

"Shh…" She took both his hands in hers, feeling rough scars. "Did you have a nightmare?"

He nodded jerkily, finding her arm and clinging to her. She rubbed his back, noting the long, raised lines running along his body.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, stroking his back.

He shook his head vigorously, resting his cheek against her.

"Okay. Well, if you need to, Mom and I are right here." She didn't know exactly how to deal with a bad dream, but she thought that just be being there, she could help.

He nuzzled closer, curling into a fetal position. Shelley sighed and pulled his arms and legs apart, murmuring something about sleeping properly. But she didn't let go of his hands, and he let her stroke his wrists gently, running her fingers over the bumpy patches of skin.

Then quite suddenly he did speak, quickly as if rushing it would make it less painful.

"I was dreaming about before…before your mother rescued me."

She turned. "Really?"

He nodded, a movement she could barely see in the dark.

"And?" she queried.

"And…it was…blurry…dark…painful…" He curled closer. "I couldn't move…I couldn't breathe…"

"It was only a dream…" she said uncomfortably.

He shook his head. "No. It really happened…"

"Oh Edgar…"A pause before she asked, "Do you remember everything?"

A beat. "No…it's…strange…foggy…it all goes together…"

She stroked his head. "That's good, isn't it? It's better not to remember, sometimes...I mean…how long did you live like that?" She looked at him. "Edgar, how old are you?"

"I don't know…"

"You don't know?" she asked, aghast. "Oh my God, Edgar…You probably don't even know your own birthday."

"Birth…day?"

"The day you were born."

"Born? I was born?"

She said, "Um, yeah…the day your mom gave birth to you."

"I have a mother?" he asked in wonder.

"Everyone has a mother," she said authoritatively. "We just have to find yours."

There was a moment of silence, before he said, "I don't want to find my mother."

"Why not?"

"She left me. She didn't want me."

"How do you know?"

"Why would I have been in a cage?"

"Maybe that guy kidnapped you," Shelley suggested.

He considered that prospect before deciding, "I don't want to. Your mother…feels like my mother." He sighed. "It's enough."

He looked at her, eyes luminous in the dark. Suddenly she grabbed him, hugging him tightly. He went stiff for a moment, then sighed, relaxing.

After a moment, she asked him, "Edgar, why did you come here?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you go to Mom's room if you have nightmares?" It only made sense...Shelley knew she wasn't the most comforting presence...

After a long moment, he answered, "Your room was closest."

She muffled a laugh. "Thanks, Edgar. You make me feel very special."

* * *

When the phone rang, once again near sunrise, Meredith felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.

She picked up the phone as if it were a poisonous spider and did not speak, merely waited for the calamity.

"Mrs. Parker? That you?"

It was Bud. Meredith felt another chill. "Is there something wrong, Bud?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah. We got another dead man, Mrs. Parker." There was an accusatory note to his voice. "It's Dillon. He was… he was butchered! And we know it's that goddamned bat freak in your house doin' it!"

"Edgar never left our house Bud!"

"I don't give a damn! You bring that monster over here right now, or we're comin' over to kill 'im ourselves!"

The line went dead.

* * *

When Shelley came down she found her mother in a state of harassment, throwing her equipment into her case without a care where they went.

"Mom…?"

"Oh Shelley, it's you," her mother said vaguely. "Now look, there's been another murder -"

"What?"

"And of course they thing Edgar's done it – the Sheriff wants to talk to me -"

"It wasn't Edgar!" Shelley cried.

"Oh honey, you can't be sure -"

"No! He was with me, he never left, we stayed up all night talking!"

Her mother stared at her. "He stayed up with you? In your room?"

Shelley suddenly found it difficult to look her mother in the eye. "Yeah…sometimes…he gets bad dreams….so he comes over and stays with me for a while…"

"I see…" Her mother started packing again, though still eying her daughter suspiciously. "Thank you Shelley. I'll tell the sheriff right away. Now you need to get dressed and go to school – I have to go check on the cows and go to the office -"

"What about Edgar?"

"He can stay at home."

"Alone?"

"He'll manage. Edgar!"

The boy came down, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He started when he saw the disarray in the room.

"I need you to stay home alone for today, okay?" Meredith said, taking his hand.

"Alone?" he echoed fearfully. "Not to your office?"

"No Edgar…there's been problems…" Shelley suddenly realized that neither had informed him that there were murders being attributed to him. "We can't let people see you. For now."

His expression fell. "I won't hurt them."

"We know that, but they don't, and right now they might turn on you over...anything. So please Edgar…stay here for the day, all right?"

Reluctantly, he nodded.

"Thank you." Meredith hugged him tightly. "There's food in the fridge, okay? If you get bored, you can read or watch TV. Don't answer the phone or the door, and make sure the curtains are closed so no one sees you through the windows, okay?"

"They can't even see me?" he asked mournfully. Shelley felt a little ache in her chest when he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Edgar. It's for your own safety."

He stared at the ground. Meredith sighed, deliberately turning away to look at her daughter.

"Come on Shelley. Get ready for school."

"Okay," her daughter answered glumly. She went to Edgar, who followed her with heavy steps. "It'll be okay, Edgar."

"Why do they hate me? They don't know me."

She fell back on her mother's words. "That's why they hate you. They don't see you as we do – they just see a strange person, and that scares them."

He didn't say anything. Shelley, wanting badly to comfort him, said, "Look, once this all blows over, we'll take you outside and force them to see you as we do." She patted his arm. "They _will_ like you. They will!"

"Really?"

"Yes!" And damn them all to hell if they didn't. "They will!"

"Okay Shelley." If she said so, then it would happen. "Someday?"

"Very soon Edgar! I promise!"

* * *

"Didn't I tell you, people?" Ellis called. "Didn't I warn you about this demon you were ignoring?"

The crowd roared with approval.

"He told us to watch out!"

"He said it would kill people!"

"He's been right all along!"

Ellis held out his hands. "And what are you going to do, I ask?"

"Get it!"

"Burn it!"

"KILL IT!"

Mrs. Taylor cried, "My Ricky is in the hospital! My poor babies are havin' nightmares!"

"First Roy, now Dillon!" Ned roared. His friend Bud backed him up: "That damn thing's not just killin' our cattle and horses, it's killin' the ranchers!"

"It's a freak!"

"No, a demon!"

"Where is it now?" Lorraine called.

Daisy shrieked, "It's at the Parkers! They've been takin' care of it all this time!"

"The Parkers!"

"Damn them! We oughta kill them too!"

"ENOUGH!"

Sheriff Reynolds punctuated his yell with a few shots from his pistol. The crowd fell silent.

"This has gone on far enough!" the sheriff shouted, glaring at Ellis. "You people are formin' some kinda mob!" In a slightly calmer voice, he continued:

"I spoke to Edgar myself – and so did you Ellis! The boy is kind and decent, and you admitted it too."

The crowd murmured at the revelation. Ellis glared hatefully at the sheriff.

"Now I went over to investigate for myself about his new murder! Shelley said he was with her when Mr. Dillon was killed, and that evidence is good enough for me!"

"She's a liar!"

"She ain't tellin' the truth!"

"We should go over and make 'em confess!"

"QUIET!" The sheriff roared. He watched them all unblinkingly. "You people better start rethinking your strategy! I'm not letting any of you harm anybody – including the Parkers and their Bat Boy! Now let's get a _real _town meetin' goin'! You," he pointed a meaty finger at Ellis, who eyed him expressionlessly. "Get off our stage! It's Mayor Maggie's turn to speak."

Ellis gave a small bow and walked off, though the people continued to murmur and watch as he go. Maggie stepped up, fists planted on her hips.

"Good. Now that you're all calmed down, I'm afraid I have some other bad news." She waited for silence before saying, with great reluctance, "It seems the Reverend Hightower has canceled his revival session due to the recent murders."

The uproar nearly destroyed the meeting house.


	11. Chapter 11

Seriously long chapter. And this chapter, by the rules of FanFiction, is rated **M**, for two swear words.

**CHAPTER 11**

_But the poor duckling, who had crept out of his shell last of all, and looked so ugly, was bitten and pushed and made fun of, not only by the ducks, but by all the poultry, so that the poor little thing did not know where to go, and was quite miserable because he was so ugly and laughed at by the whole farmyard._

_So it went on from day to day till it got worse and worse. The poor duckling was driven about by everyone; even his brothers and sisters were unkind to him, and would say, "Ah, you ugly creature, I wish the cat would get you," and his mother said she wished he had never been born. The ducks pecked him, the chickens beat him, and the girl who fed the poultry kicked him with her feet._

_The Ugly Duckling_

* * *

_He crouched back when the door opened again. He saw the man, and instinctively moved away from where he knew the opening to his cage was._

_But this time it was different. The man came to the back, where he had been crouching. He scrambled away, hissing quietly, afraid. The man sometimes hit him for showing any hostility, but also sometimes ignored him. This time he went for the latter._

_With a sudden jolt the cage he had lived in all his life was moving. He shrieked, jumping, trying to escape, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere for him to run._

_Terror leaped in his chest as the cage was pushed outside, into blinding light. He screamed in pain. He had lived in darkness all his life and now, exposed to light, he was unable to see._

_He heard the man yelling, heard a great noise. It was a crowd, although he did not know this. He couldn't distinguish any separate voices - it was one maw of sound, pressing on him. His screams doubled in volume. _

_He felt the man drag him forward, chain him to the center. He still couldn't see, couldn't hear..._

_But he did feel something wet splatter against him._

_The man yelled for control as the people started to hurl their food. He, on the other hand, tried futilely to move, to run..._

_The next object to hit him was hard, sharp; it cut into him. He yelped, scrambled back and felt his collar cut into the back of his neck. He didn't even know which way to go...it seemed they were all around him. The man was trying to restore order but was failing horribly. Finally, the man threw a cover over the cage and shoved it back, still shouting at the crowd, and leaving the Bat Boy to lick at his wounds...  
_

* * *

That first day turned into two days…then three…then a week. Edgar stayed inside, feeling trapped.

Occasionally the phone would ring, or someone would knock on the door. He ignored it. More rarely, he would see a car pass by; it would slow as they neared, then quickly speed up. He thought he could feel the driver's glances through the window, trying to discern him through the heavy curtains.

Quickly he ran out of programs to watch and books to read. He wandered up and down the house, exploring the small rooms. Often he sat aimlessly by the window, waiting for Shelley to come walking home. Then he would scramble off his bed and run to the front door to await her arrival. Only when she had come in and greeted him with her warm smile would he feel the boredom lift.

But the next morning she would invariably be gone, leaving him alone once more.

After a week and a half it became too much. He had to get out of the house. He at first contemplated hiking through the woods, but it was society he wanted to see, buildings and people and machines and all the things Shelley and Meredith talked about.

He wanted to see Shelley, at her school.

But could he? It wasn't the potential mob he feared – they were an abstract threat that he had never met, and did not truly frighten him. What he feared was Meredith and Shelley's anger should they find him out of doors. Meredith, especially, had become like a mother to him, and there is nothing a child fears more than the wrath of a parent when they have done wrong.

He hung about the door indecisively, trying to weigh his boredom against his fear. He stood in the hallway, hand on the doorknob, trying to think through all the potential consequences. But it was the sudden ring of the phone into the quiet air that sent him out. He jumped at the loud noise, startled; without thinking he flung open the door and ran outside, panting.

For a moment he did not realize what he had done. But then he realized: _He was outside. He had done it. _It brought a shivery excitement, half elation, half thrill of fear. He took a step further, into the front yard and the bright sunlight. When no mob descended upon him (as he had been led to believe would happen) he took another, and another, until he was at the sidewalk's edge.

He did not go without caution, though. After reaching the edge of the sidewalk and smiling out into the light, he trotted back inside the house. He put on a dark sweatshirt, the hood pulled around his head to conceal his head. He skirted through light, took routes that seemed abandoned or unused, taking refuge in the shadows, jumping when he saw an approaching car or person.

He knew he had reached the school only because it happened to be lunch. Hope Falls' 200 or so students were milling aimlessly about the wide, unfenced yard. The town itself was so small (Population: 500) that every grade had been crammed into the low, squat building sitting squarely in the center of the block.

Edgar had never seen so many people, so many children, all of them running with the hyper energy acquired after eating a sugary lunch. Utterly confused, getting flashbacks of crowds who had surrounded his cage, he hid in the shadows of the trees and searched for Shelley, the only familiar face.

Presently, he spied her at the far end of the yard, standing alongside a group of girls; together they were one of the oldest people on the campus, hanging about with the bored air of teenagers preparing to leave their childhood. Edgar slid down and sat on the sidewalk, watching happily as she chatted with her friends.

"That math test was _so_ hard."

"I blew it. I know I did. My dad's gonna kill me."

"Mrs. Farley is such a bitch."

They tittered amongst themselves. Edgar settled back against the tree contentedly.

"Hey Shelley," one of the girls giggled. "There's a guy watching you over there."

"Who?" Shelley looked about. "I don't see anyone."

"Maybe it's Rick Taylor," another suggested coyly.

"You're so lucky to have him, Shel," the first sighed. "If he was my boyfriend…" She smiled dreamily.

"I don't think it's Rick," a third added. "Rick's in the hospital, isn't he?"

"Maybe he left to come see Shelley."

"Rick Taylor wouldn't hide in the dark!"

"Maybe he would, if he just wanted to see Shelley!"

"It's not Rick," Shelley said loudly, ending the argument. She shaded her eyes from the sunlight, trying to get a better look. "It doesn't look like anybody from this school." She shrugged. "Anyway, I don't think he's looking at me."

She turned around. At the end of lunch when she looked back, he was gone.

She had forgotten about it by the end of the day, and so did not mention it to her family. The next day at school, though, her friends started whispering again.

"Shelley, you have a stalker!"

Yes, the dark shape was back under the tree.

"Go talk to him, Shelley!" cried her friends, shoving her forward. "See what he wants!"

"No thanks," Shelley snorted.

"Go! Come on Shelley, see what he wants!"

They pushed and shoved until she was practically there already.

"If he kills me, it's your fault!" Shelley yelled as she walked over. Edgar had perked up.

They laughed at her remark, gathering closer in their spot, still giggling incessantly.

Shelley sighed and walked under the tree, seeing the person stand quickly.

"Okay, Mr. Hides-Under-Tree, come out -" She stopped and simply gaped when she saw who it was. "Edgar! What are you doing here?" She grabbed his arm and dragged him out of sight. "Mom told you not to come out here! What do you think you're doing?"

Edgar hung his head. "I wanted to see you."

"See me? You can see me at home! And – you did this yesterday, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry."

"Ugh…don't be." She looked back at her tittering friends, then at Edgar. In a hood and baggy sweater, he didn't look at all like himself. She took his hand and led him out of the dark. "Well...look, you _really_ wanted to see me?"

He nodded.

_Mom's going to kill me._ She said, "Then come on. Let's go meet my friends."

He stared at her in wonder. "Really?"

"Yep. Come on."

She pulled him over to the group of girls, who were having little fits of excitement.

"Will they like me?" he whispered nervously.

"Of course!" she said, sounding a little too sure. She looked him over and pulled on the hood. "You look good."

They had reached the girls. Edgar stood back, shying closer to Shelley when they drew near.

"He is a stalker!"

"But he only came to see her!"

"That's so…"

"Sweet!"

"No! It's weird!"

"Idiots," Shelley muttered. But she smiled as they drew near, and said, "This is Edgar. He's kind of a friend." Looking at him, standing speechless beside her, she added, "He's kind of shy."

"He's cute," one girl observed. The others nodded.

"Very."

"Adorable!"

Shelley smiled at Edgar, who was brightening up under all the attention.

"Why does he wear the hood?"

"Take it off!"

Shelley, seeing a tense situation coming and wanting to defuse it, said nervously, "Uh, he'd rather not…"

"Take it off for him, Shelley!"

"Hey, back off!" Shelley snarled. "He doesn't want to!"

"What is he hiding?"

Shelley pushed Edgar behind her, realizing just how bad an idea this was. "Leave him alone!"

"What's your problem, Shelley?"

"We just want to see him!"

"You brought him over!"

"Edgar, go home!" Shelley commanded. He tugged at her hand, but she let go. "No! Just you Edgar!" He backed away into a group of girls who pulled off the hood.

A deadly silence fell over the playground. It seemed all eyes had gone to them.

Then someone screamed, "IT'S THE BAT BOY!"

All hell broke loose. Everyone within a ten foot radius scrambled back; others shrieked, backing into the buildings; still more ran and told others in an ever growing circle of wild rumors, causing pandemonium amongst students and teachers – within moments a mass of people had formed, all running for the safety of the school.

Within ten minutes the entire playground was empty, though many were crowded at the windows, gazing upon them.

"Well…" Shelley said, gazing around. "I guess this was a bad idea." She sighed. "I'm so dead." She looked at Edgar, still watching her nervously. "Go home Edgar. Just forget about this."

"Shelley…Is this why you don't let me go out?" he asked quietly.

She couldn't meet his eyes and spoke to the ground. "I'm sorry Edgar."

He didn't say anything, just stared at the avidly staring students. He gave her one last glance, then walked off the grounds and back to the darkness of the trees.

Shelley, however, still had class, and was forced to endure the whispers of her fellow students all the way through.

"The Bat Boy…"

"Of course…she _lives _with him…"

"The nerve of her, bringing him here…"

"_And _he's a murderer…"

She gritted her teeth, hugged her books to her chest, and went inside her classroom. Instantly chattering broke out around her.

"I knew she was hiding something..."

"Did you _see_ it?"

"Yeah! Ugliest thing I ever saw..."

The teacher cleared her throat, silencing the mutterings, but cast Shelley a look she didn't quite know how to interpret – a cautious one, as if _Shelley _were the dangerous one. She slammed her books across her table and bent her head over her work.

A tap on the edge of her desk forced her to look up. A girl was looking across at her. In a whisper, the girl asked,

"So, what's it like fucking a bat?"

Shelley took two deep breaths. She closed her books, binder, and pencil case, and zipped them carefully inside her backpack. She stood up, looked serenely down at the girl, and slammed her fist into the girl's face.

* * *

"I do not understand this, Miss Parker! We have a zero-tolerance policy of violence at this school! You have been one of finest students; what would possess you to hit a classmate?"

Shelley stared at a spot over the principal's shoulder and remained silent.

"If you will not talk about this, then we will have no choice but to suspend you!"

_Desperation_, she thought. Hope Falls had never suspended a student. Ever.

"…But since you have been a stellar student…"

Hadn't heard that one before...

"…we will overlook this once." The principal gazed at her sternly. "We will be calling your mother."

Shelley finally broke her silence. Swinging her backpack over her shoulder, she muttered, "Whatever."

* * *

"Hitting a girl at school! Almost getting suspended! Shelley, _why_ would you do such a thing?"

She was really becoming a troubled teenager, wasn't she? Odd, she always thought Rick would be the first –

"Shelley, look at me when I'm talking to you!"

She snapped her gaze to her mother's angry face.

"Now I want to sit down and tell me exactly what happened!"

"Nothing happened," Shelley muttered.

"That is a lie and you know it! Nobody simply lashes out for no reason, and especially not you Shelley!"

"Too bad Mom, because there was no reason!"

"Shelley, get back here this instant!"

"OH SHUT UP MOM!"

Then she was running up the stairs and into her room.

Edgar quietly entered the darkened room. He heard, and saw, Shelley roll over.

"Hey Edgar," she said tiredly.

He sat down. "I'm sorry."

She groaned. "You have to stop saying that. Not everything is your fault."

"This feels like it is."

"It's not." She hesitated, then asked, "Want to lie down?"

He lay next to her and took her hand in his.

"They hate me," he said eventually, "don't they?"

She could not answer him.

* * *

Rick thrashed in his bed.

"I'll kill you… I'LL KILL YOU, FREAK!"

Ruthie shook her brother. "Ricky, stop it! The Bat Boy ain't here!"

Ron twisted his brother's Bowie knife in his small hands. "He's right, Ruthie. The bat freak oughta pay for doin' this to our big brother."

Rick moaned, saliva foaming. "Die, freak, die…"

Mrs. Taylor sobbed by her son's bedside, completely unaware of the murderous turn of the conversation. "My sweet little boy… he never hurt a thing in his life!" she cried. "Oh Ricky, please get better!"

"Look at Mom, Ruthie," Ron whispered to his younger sister. "We oughta help her. We oughta kill the Bat Boy!"

"Kill the Bat Boy?" Ruthie echoed, half in horror, half in barely concealed excitement.

"Yeah! It's at the Parkers, ain't it? We'll stab it!" He demonstrated with the Bowie knife. "And we'll rip its guts out! And we'll tear out his arms and legs! And then we'll burn the pieces!"

"Yeah! Burn it!"

"And we'll keep the head!" Ron continued. "Just like Mr. Ellis said! And we'll give it to Mom to put on the trophy case!"

Ruthie squealed. "We're gonna kill the Bat Boy! We're gonna kill the Bat Boy!"

"WE'RE GONNA KILL THE BAT BOY!" the two shrieked, hopping around the room wildly.

Mrs. Taylor had never been so proud of her children.

* * *

Halfway through her second grounding, Shelley came running into Edgar's room with a new plan.

"Okay, here's the thing," she said without preamble. "The Reverend's not coming here, so there won't be any big revival. But the town has a meeting like, once every three months or so. So the next one will be coming up in a week or so. I'm thinking – we can sneak off there and show you to them!"

He gave her a quizzical look. "They'll attack me."

"No! The sheriff and the mayor will be there, and so will Mom, too! They'll keep the crowd back for us, and you can talk to them! Convince them that you're normal!"

"Convince them?"

"Yeah! You'll have to give a little speech and stuff and -" She snapped her fingers. "Clothes! You need to dress nicely – show you're just as human as they are!"

He sat up as she started to rummage through his closet. "Shelley," he said slowly, "they think I'm a monster."

"But you're not," she said, head still inside the closet. "And that's what the speech is about. You're going to go out there and prove that you would never hurt anybody!" She gasped, finding exactly the right suit, and crashed her head on the top. "Ouch! Found it! Then they will accept you!"

Accepted…How nice it had felt to be amongst Shelley's friends, to feel them looking at him and talking about him in a normal way – as if he were a part of them. And oh, how fleeting that feeling had been.

He wanted to be a part of this world. He wanted to be able to go outside, to talk to casual acquaintances – no, to make casual acquaintances – and not just that, but friends… to go to school as Shelley did, to work as Meredith did, to contribute and be one with the world.

And it had been done so easily with Shelley's friends – a mere clothing change, and they had drawn him into their fold. Why couldn't he do the same here?

"Put this one on…" Shelley handed him a shirt. "And this…and tie this…and don't forget the suit…And the shoes…" She waited, then giggled and turned around, covering her eyes. "Go on! I promise I won't peek!"

He changed quickly, then tapped her shoulder.

She turned around and smiled, then dragged him to the mirror. "See…you look awesome!" she cried.

"Really?"

She stepped back and appraised him. "Yep," she said, nodding to herself. "Look at yourself." She forced him to face the mirror. "You're all dressed up nicely...and you talk so well...and you don't look so skinny and pale anymore." She rolled up his sleeve and pinched a bit of muscle around his arm.

He stared down at himself, particularly at a ring of raised skin. Shelley, suddenly uncomfortable, pushed his sleeve back down.

"You'll be the talk of the town." She sat on the bed, trying to break the tension. "They'll come around – and before you know it, they'll all be wanting to know you."

"And then?"

"And then…" She thought for a moment. "And then you can go wherever you want. You can come to school with me and get your diploma. You might even get to graduate with me! And then you can go to college."

"College?"

"Yep. Mom went to college and she wants me to go too."

"What do you do in college?"

"It's like school, only you get to live there and get away from your parents! And you learn more, and it costs a lot of money, but you're way more likely to get a better job and not end off as…" She made a disparaging gesture. "…farmers or coal miners."

"Okay."

"And then you can get whatever job you like," she finished softly. "What do you want to do Edgar?"

He didn't know. In his most secret dreams, hidden away in the very depths of his mind and one he had only indulged in dreams, he hoped to be with Shelley, though his mind couldn't conceive of marriage or love – he merely wanted to be by her side.

Shelley, seeing him struggle for an answer, asked, "Well, what do you like to do?"

He liked being with her.

"I like to…learn," he said instead.

She raised an eyebrow. "What? Like…study?" She said it as if it were a bad thing, and he felt himself shrink back. Quickly she changed her tone. "No, that's a good thing! A lot of people don't like learning or anything…you could be a researcher! Or a professor! Or just somebody who likes to discover new things, like – an explorer!"

"An explorer…" It felt right.

"You can go out and find out about your own family," Shelley said wistfully. "Maybe find your own Bat Girl?"

"A Bat Girl?"

"Yes…you know, a girl who looks like you." Instantly an image of Shelley with bat ears and fangs popped into his head. Shelley continued, "And I suppose you can marry and have little bat children…" Now both had an image of Edgar, surrounded by little bat children.

Edgar said (after wiping out the images), "Shelley…if I find a…a 'Bat Girl'…I don't think I would like her…very much."

Shelley looked at him, expression unreadable. "So you go for people like me? I don't think we – I mean, you and this other girl – are of the same species."

"I think I am half human, at least. It…can be overcome."

"I guess." She took the plunge without thinking. "Edgar…have you found this…other, human girl?" Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Is it one of my friends?"

He suddenly started looking everywhere but at her. "I…have. And it's not one of your friends." Her friends? Their existence had barely registered in his mind.

"Could you…tell me…who?"

Edgar was shaking slightly in her arms. She couldn't possibly – she might just be – he didn't want to know but at the same time he had to –

He said slowly, "The girl -"

"SHELLEY! EDGAR! DINNER!"

The two snapped apart at Meredith's voice, blushing profusely.

"I guess we need to -"

"Probably should go -"

The moment was gone. They hurried down, not looking at each other. Both were still quite red.


	12. Chapter 12

And you thought the last chapter was long...

Stole a lot from "Let Me Walk Among You" and couldn't figure out how to get rid of it without scrapping most of the chapter. So here it stays.

**CHAPTER 12**

Edgar was having a bad dream again. Shelley sighed. She had hoped they would stop after that talk with the Sheriff and Ellis, but they only seemed to have gotten worse. She couldn't understand it.

He was thrashing about, but in an odd way. His arms and legs were pulled to his body; he was curled up, twisting wretchedly, in ways Shelley didn't think a person was capable of. He made no sound, but the muscles on his neck and cheek were drawn tight, as if he were just barely holding back a scream.

Unable to stand watching his torment, she grabbed him and yelled his name.

With a restrained gasp he opened his eyes, staring at her and through her, not seeing anything except his nightmare.

He moaned. "Don't hit me...don't hurt me..."

"_What_?" Shelley squeezed him tightly. "I'm not hurting you, Edgar." She forced him to see her. "It's me...Shelley."

His panting slowed, he released a gust of air from his lungs. "Shelley..." It was a sigh.

"Yeah, who else?" She patted his head. "These nightmares are going to kill both of us, you know. I haven't gotten any sleep since you came."

She meant it as a joke, but he didn't seem to take it as such. "I'm sorry. I should go-" He made to stand and was promptly shoved back down.

"I was _kidding_. Come on, go back to sleep."

He shook his head. "Don't want to..."

"You have to sleep, Edgar," she said sternly, sounding more like his mother than his friend.

"I can't..." He drew up his legs to his chest. "I'm scared..." He winced, knowing he sounded like a child.

She sighed, understanding. "I know...but try..." She shook her head; she was definitely not psychologist material. "Look, close your eyes..." He obeyed immediately, innately - and wrongly, she thought - assured that she would help. "Think of happy things..."

He wasn't asleep, though. She patted his arm, his shoulder, his chest. "I'm still here..."

He opened his eyes. "Will you stay here? With me?"

"I will."

* * *

Ruthie swung her legs on the bed, yawning. "Ronnie, stop! Sttooopppp! It's not in there!"

"Aw, shut up Ruthie! Rick told me he put it here and I'm gonna find it!"

"No you're not!"

"Yes I am!"

"Will not!"

"Will so!"

"Won't!"

"_Will_!"

"_Won't!_"

"WILL!" Ron gave a triumphant yell and pulled out a knife, flashing its long blade in the fading evening light. "HA! TOLD YA RUTHIE! I FOUND IT!" He hopped over, waving it wildly. "FOUND IT, FOUND IT, FOUND IT! You're wrong and I'm right!"

"Shut up Ronnie!"

"You shut up!"

"No you!"

"NO YOU!"

"KIDS, BE QUIET UP THERE!"

The two settled down. Ron leaned over to his younger sister. "Tomorrow, Ruthie, we go over to the Parker house and we slice open that Bat Boy's stomach!"

"Yeah!"

"Then you'll grab a stick and poke out his eyes!"

"_Yeah!_"

"And then we'll skin it and give it to Rick for his new jacket!"

"YEAH!"

* * *

Shelley sighed as she looked outside her window. Edgar, a never-ending presence at her side, inclined his head slightly towards her in curiosity.

"It's such a lovely day, and we can't go out at all," she answered to his questioning look. "Kind of seems like whenever we try to get you out something bad happens, don't it?"

He didn't answer.

"I mean, I think the front yard isn't too far…" she continued. "We would see if anybody's coming or anything… yeah, I think that would work…" She stood suddenly and grabbed his hand. "Come on Edgar! We're going outside! No more keeping you cooped up like this!"

"Shelley, maybe we shouldn't," he argued, rather weakly; he wanted to go outside too.

"Oh come on Edgar! It's not like there are people hiding behind our bushes, waiting for us to come out!"

* * *

Behind the bushes, waiting for the two to come out, were Ron and Ruthie Taylor.

"Ronnie! This is taking forever!"

"Shut up Ruthie! They have to come out sometime!"

"We've been waiting here forever though! Come on Ronnie, I'm hungry!"

"I said SHUT UP Ruthie! If you wanna go home and tell Mom that you were too bored and hungry to stay, then go on ahead! I'm staying here!" He sat on the dirt with great finality.

Ruthie stood, sat back down, then stood up again, obviously confused, her little face puckered up.

"Weeelll…Ronnie, they'll come out soon, won't they?" Her voice grew more insistent as her brother remained silent. "_Won't they?_"

"Get down! And shut up!" Ronnie pushed her back behind the fence. He pointed to two people coming outside, the girl leading the boy by the hand. "They're out! Told ya!"

* * *

The front yard was small, without gates or fences; the only things surrounding it were bushes. There were no neighbors in this part of the area, meaning no people peeking over, trying to see what they were doing. There were only the trees, the woods in which the two had hiked, and the road in front.

"Okay Edgar, I'll be the audience. Now you appear and give your speech."

She sat on the grass. Edgar walked to her.

"Now tell them about yourself."

He didn't even know how to start.

"Okay…who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I…I am Edgar. The Bat Boy." He looked at her as if to say, 'That was terrible, wasn't it?' before continuing, "And I know that you all hate me…"

He paused again. Shelley smiled encouragingly and gestured for him to continue.

"But I…you don't know me. I know I am not like you…so…so help me to learn. I want to change and become one of you." He was starting to hit his stride. "Let me walk among you – let me go to your schools and your offices with you. Let me take care of your children and talk to your friends with you."

He moved closer to Shelley, addressing only her, becoming more passionate with every word. "Please, don't shun me because I am different! Don't push me into a corner and forget all about me! Let me better myself! Let me be able to learn and to work! Let me love one of you, let me start a family! Let me be a part of your world!"

He paused, unsure how else to proceed. He felt spent; it had been an almost cathartic moment. Shelley had stopped smiling, was in fact in a bit of shock at the emotion in his voice. He said, much quieter, "That's…all I have to say." He stopped, and saw Shelley lower her head. "But please…won't one of you…accept me…as I am?"

Hesitantly he held out a hand to her, and she grabbed it without thinking. He pulled her up and towards himself until they were standing inches apart. Nervously he put a hand to her hair and ran his fingers through the strands.

Shelley felt him shivering again. She felt nervous herself. Sure, she had had a boyfriend, but honestly, what was that relationship compared to this one?

Edgar was evidently thinking the same thing, for as he ran a hand down from her face to her shoulder, he asked her, "What about the boy I bit?" There was no jealousy in his voice, but why should that surprise her? He had no conception of possessiveness, and even if he did know it, she didn't think he was capable of feeling that way.

"I don't think I ever liked Rick as much I like you." There. She had said it.

Edgar brushed her cheek. "I like you too, Shelley."

She smiled shyly, feeling like a girl on her first date. She wanted him to kiss her, right there. But he didn't move; he didn't know how to go to the next step. So it was she who pulled him gently towards her.

* * *

Ruthie and Ron had planned to jump out and attack as soon as the Bat Boy came out. But the presence of Shelley, their beloved older brother's girlfriend, had stopped them cold. They had hovered indecisively between creeping back home and staying put.

Edgar's impassioned speech had made the decision for them. They sat down to watch. But Ruthie, unlike Ron, who had snorted and rolled his eyes throughout, had started to get caught up in it. He wasn't at all like the monster their mother and Mr. Ellis had described to them. He seemed like a normal boy just trying to fit in. And he spoke so nicely – she had thought he would hiss and jump at Shelley, but he didn't.

Then Shelley had congratulated him, and run up and spoken to him, and touched him in a funny way. She wasn't sure why it was strange…they seemed happy enough. Something just felt off about it.

He started touching her hair, and they were so close to the bushes that the two children could hear what they said. Ruthie thought it all rather romantic, if in a somewhat sickening way. Perhaps this was why Rick had always kicked them out of his room when he had Shelley over. Beside her, Ron was evidently feeling the same way, making hacking gestures; now he was the one who wanted to leave.

"What about the boy I bit?" Edgar asked.

Ruthie perked up. The boy he bit must be Rick. Did he feel bad about it? He seemed to sound guilty anyway. If he felt bad, then shouldn't they leave him alone? Maybe he wanted to say 'sorry'.

Then Shelley answered, "I don't think I ever liked Rick as much as I like you."

_Wait_, thought Ruthie. _What?_

Then she saw Shelley pull Edgar closer. Their mouths were touching, just like –

Suddenly everything clicked for Ruthie. That was way it all felt so wrong! Shelley was Rick's girlfriend! And yet she was standing there holding, and almost kissing another boy. A word entered Ruthie's head, one she had heard her mother use sometimes: "Slut."

Next to her Ron was clenching his blade. "She's cheatin' on Rick!" he hissed at his sister. "She's a – a -"

"Slut?" Ruthie suggested helpfully.

"Yeah!" Ron leaped up. "GET THEM!"

Shelley and Edgar broke apart as the two children forced themselves between the bushes and came at them, screaming wildly.

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" they chanted, Ron flashing his brother's Bowie knife.

"YOU'RE A SLUT!" Ruthie screamed.

"YOU'RE GONNA DIE, BAT BOY!" Ron yelled.

Shelley pushed Edgar back. "Okay," she muttered, "this is getting kind of weird." As the two continued their screams she grabbed Edgar and ran for the front door; the Taylor kids, seeing their break, ran in front, faces red with anger. Shelley found herself with her back against Edgar's, squaring off against two insane preteens.

"Get around them!" Ron shouted, pushing his sister to their other side. "C'mon Bat Boy, whatcha gonna do? Bite me like you did Ricky?" The knife suddenly slashed close to Edgar's face. "YOU'RE GONNA PAY, YOU HEAR ME? YOU'RE GONNA PAY!"

"Get the hell away from him you stupid kid!" Shelley exclaimed angrily, trying to move over.

Ruthie hopped in her way. "GET THEM APART!" she shrieked.

"MOVE IT!" Ron tried to bring the knife between them

"C'mon Edgar, just push them -!"

"DIE, BAT BOY!" Ron yelled, and sliced the knife across Edgar's arm.

Edgar yelped. Then he leaped. And before either Shelley or Ruthie could do anything, he was on top of Ron, biting down into the boy's neck.

Ron howled. "AAHH! AAAAHHHH! GET HIM OFF! GET HIM-"

"RONNIE!"

"EDGAR!"

Edgar felt the warm flesh and blood in his mouth and gulped it down eagerly. Dimly he heard the screams of the girls, felt the boy's weakening struggles, but it was a fluttering moth pounding against the brick wall that was his insatiable hunger.

A brutal shove sent him crashing off and against the floor. The sudden tear from the blood angered him out of control; jaws dripping with blood he howled at the two girls kneeling by the boy and rushed at them.

Both girls screamed. Shelley pushed the younger Ruthie aside as Edgar landed on her; wildly she hit him.

He fell off, moaning faintly, suddenly back in reality.

Shelley pushed herself up, and for the moment her concern was only for the writhing boy on their yard, and trying to stem the pool of blood rushing on to the grass. She heard Ruthie behind her, still crying, and, very quietly, Edgar, way in the background.

"HE'S BIT! HE'S BIT!" Ruthie sobbed. "THE BAT BOY BIT RONNIE!"

"SHUT UP RUTHIE!" Shelley yelled. She pressed her hands against the boy's neck and felt the blood spurt all over her hands. To the girl she ordered, "Get inside and call the ambulance!"

"But -"

"WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS! CALL 911!"

Ruthie hurtled inside; Ron had stopped struggling, was lying quite still, face and body paper-white, eyes rolled up beneath half-closed eyelids. Shelley pulled off his shirt and tore it into strips, bandaging it around the now-slow trickle of blood. Her hair fell over her face and she swept it back, and felt the wetness streak across her face. There was blood on her shirt, her hands and arms, and soaking into her shoes and pants.

When she looked up she saw Ruthie stumbling towards her. Quietly, Shelley instructed her on where to apply pressure, how to tie a bandage, how to check for a pulse, feeling as if it was all beyond her, like she was merely reciting. Only when Ruthie had settled herself into a deathly calm state next to her brother did Shelley cautiously move to Edgar.

Edgar was huddled in a manner befitting his animalistic state. He knew he had done wrong – he had bitten another person. What would Shelley do? He remembered the days after Rick Taylor had been rushed to the hospital…he did not ever want to relive those days…

Shelley knelt down and reached for him. "Edgar?"

He jerked back and ran inside, leaving her, arm still outstretched, alone on the walk.

* * *

When the ambulance had sped away with Ron and Ruthie Taylor inside, Meredith washed the blood off her daughter's clothes and the front walk, checked on Shelley, sleeping soundly after an exhausting day, and went to look for Edgar. He had closed the door to his room, and when Shelley had gone in, had managed to lock himself within the bedroom. Meredith could guess what had gotten him into such a terrified state.

"Edgar?" She knocked on his bedroom door. "Edgar?"

She opened it and found it and the bathroom empty. After looking inside the closet and behind the furniture, she found him under the bed, his position reminiscent of the last time someone had been bitten in their house.

"Oh Edgar, come out of there." She pulled him into the light. "Did Shelley do anything?" she asked suspiciously.

He shook his head mutely. She sighed; back to the silent mode.

"The sheriff came over. He wanted to talk to you."

No answer.

"Shelley told him what happened. We know that it was Ron Taylor's fault. It was just self-defense on your part."

She could only hope the town would see it that way.

Edgar lowered his head, not meeting her eyes, then peeped up and asked hesitantly, "Is Shelley angry?"

"I don't know Edgar. You will have to ask her."

He played with his blanket. "I don't like it when she's angry."

"I know you don't, and neither do I, but I don't think she is." She patted his back. "You really care for her, don't you?"

He nodded.

"And she cares for you, I can see that."

He dipped his head.

"It's all right. I was hoping that, after all this time, that you would care for each other. Even love each other."

He jerked up. "Love?"

She stroked his head. "Yes, love. Do you know what love is?"

He shook his head.

"Love is...a very deep caring for someone, it doesn't matter who. It could be husband or wife, but also friend, father or mother, or… brother and sister."

He nodded. Meredith smiled.

"You know what a family is?" He nodded again, wondering where the conversation was going. "A family isn't always a mother and father and their children. Sometimes it's just two people – sometimes one parent and the children. But a family always loves one another, no matter what. Do you feel that way about her?" He nodded eagerly. "Then I'm sure she feels the same way." She hugged the boy, feeling a rush of tenderness run through her. "Don't worry about Ron Taylor, Edgar. We'll take care of you – Shelley and I. We're a family."

"A family…" Edgar repeated quietly.

When she had left he hugged himself, thinking. A family...he had never been sure of that word. The books he had read had invariably shown a mother, a father, and two or three children, sometimes with a pet. He had looked over those pictures many times, too shy and unsure of himself to ask Meredith or Shelley any questions on that matter. And he hadn't even known what his questions were. Where was the father of the family? The father usually went to work, it seemed, but in the Parker household, that was Meredith's role. He had wondered if that made Meredith the father. But Shelley called Meredith her mother. Shelley was the child - but she was so much older than the children pictured in the book. For a while he had wondered if Shelley was the mother...

And then there was his own role. Was he the pet? The thought made him feel tiny and shriveled up inside. But he wasn't a child...he wasn't Meredith's child, or (God forbid), Shelley's. He was just a funny, strange boy who had been smuggled into the household.

But now Meredith had accepted him as part of the family. Mentally he took the picture of that perfect family, scribbled out the father and the pet, replaced the daughter with Shelley, and finally, fit himself in. It felt good.

He took a breath. This time Shelley wouldn't come to him. This time, it wasn't Shelley's fault. This time, he would go to her, even though he felt he might die if she stated yelling at him.

* * *

Ruthie shook her brother's arm. "Ron?" When he didn't respond she turned and trotted to her other brother's side. "Rick?"

"Mmph…" Rick blinked. "Shelley?"

Ruthie squealed and grabbed her brother.

"Rick!" she cried. "I thought you weren't ever gonna wake up!"

His response: "Oh…it's you."

Ruthie was young, but she knew when she had been insulted, and she scowled.

"Mommy and I were really worried 'bout you," she said grouchily.

"Well, I'm feeling fine now," he said with loud bravado. "So what the hell happened? All remember is that bat thing comin' at me."

"You got bit!" Ruthie shouted with irresistable glee. "And Ronnie and I started screamin' and shoutin' a lot, and then Mrs. Parker came back and called the ambulance and then you came here!" She leaned in closer. "And Ricky – Ronnie got bit too! We were gonna kill the Bat Boy for bitin' you, but then it attacked him!"

"It bit Ronnie too?" Rick yelled, suddenly sitting up. "Oh, that little bat freak's gonna pay tonight! I'm gonna -"

"Wait, Rick! I need to tell you something!" She was almost hopping in anticipation of her terrible news. "Guess what? Shelley likes the Bat Boy!"

If Ruthie was hoping for an explosion, she was disappointed. Rick just…went calm. It was surprising, actually.

After a long moment of silence that Ruthie mistook for serenity (but was really Rick stewing up with anger), he asked her, "How do you know?" in a queerly quiet voice.

"I saw them," she informed him, a bit glum since there was no yelling. "They were gonna kiss. She told him…" She frowned, "…that she had never liked a guy as much as him before. I think."

"She left me," Rick said, not paying attention any longer. "The little bitch left me." He slammed the hospital tray next to him, sending it clattering to the floor. "THE LITTLE SLUT LEFT ME! I'LL KILL HER! I'LL -"

"OH RICKY, YOU'RE AWAKE!"

And Rick found himself smothered by his mother's expansive embrace.

"Oh, we were all so worried…you were so sick, my dear, brave little boy…standing up to that horrible monster all by yourself…and getting bitten for it…"

Rick made a muffled sound that might have been "Get off me."

"Yes, dear, I know! I know! We're all gonna track down the freak and kill it…"

The next sound out of him seemed more agreeable.

"And we will skin it, and you can wear it and show it to those Parker bitches…"

Rick nodded as eagerly as he could while engulfed by his mother.

"…and everything will turn out great! Oh Ricky, if only Ronnie were awake…"

Mrs. Taylor sighed, looking over to her younger son lying a little ways down the room. She let go of Rick to throw herself on the prone body and smother the still face with kisses.

The doctor entered the room, smiling benevolently down at Rick.

"Hello Rick. Feeling better now?"

"Guess so, Doc."

"That's good son. Now before I get to you, I have to talk to Mrs. Taylor about Ron here."

"Oh Doctor, what's wrong with him?" she cried.

"Um, same thing as your other boy, Mrs. Taylor. Seems the Bat Boy bit him."

"AGAIN? THAT FREAK! THAT EVIL CREATURE HURT MY BOY?" she screamed. "HE SHOULD BE SLAUGHTERED! HE SHOULD BE KILLED!"

_Was she putting on an act_, the doctor wondered, _or had she simply not been listening when they told this to her?_

"Mrs. Taylor, please calm yourself -"

"Stand aside, Doctor, I'll help the woman."

Harlan Ellis swept through the door; if he had a cape, the Doctor thought he might have given it a dramatic swirl.

"Dear Mrs. Taylor," Ellis whispered so that the Doctor couldn't hear. "I'm sorry about your boy… that's both of them now, isn't it?"

Mrs. Taylor howled loudly.

"You must protect them – and your daughter. You know the ranchers are on your side – they've lost two of their own already. And the ladies – is it Daisy and Lorraine? They will help. Why, the entire town will support you…"

Mrs. Taylor sobbed, yet listened closely as well.

"You are a mother – the sheriff, and Mayor Maggie, will have to listen to you. After all, you are the people, right? You elect them."

Mrs. Taylor agreed by nodding her head energetically.

"Then you know what you must do. Convince them to destroy this terrible freak. Rid your town of the demon! Cleanse Hope Falls of this monster!"

"I will!" Mrs. Taylor shrieked. "The Bat Boy must die! Ruthie," she said with authority, "stay here with your brothers. Mommy's gonna bring back a Bat Boy for you."

* * *

Shelley opened the door at the hesitant knock.

"Hello Edgar," she said calmly. She stepped aside. "Would you like to come in?"

_She wasn't yelling_, Edgar thought. _That was a good sign._

She sat on the bed, but he remained standing, not looking at her.

"Edgar…sit down," she said softly.

He shook his head.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

He twisted his hands and asked, "You're not mad at me?

"No I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"

He couldn't believe his ears. What kind of question was that? Wasn't the answer obvious? "I bit somebody."

"So?"

"You told me not to. You were…very angry with me."

"Oh…Oh Edgar." She wasn't looking at him anymore; she was staring at the floor in obvious shame. "Edgar, I am…so sorry for everything I said that night. It was wrong…I can see that now." She stood and pulled him to the bed. "Sit down. Edgar...I will never hate you. And I _know_ what you did wasn't your fault! I was right there!"

"Why?"

"_Why?_ Because I know it isn't!"

"No." He gazed at her pleadingly. "Why do you keep forgiving me? Why don't you run away from me like everybody else?"

"Because you are a brave, sweet boy, and it's everybody else's stupidity that prevents them from seeing it."

She moved off her bed but he followed, settling himself on the floor as she sat down.

"Shelley…" he said hesitantly. "I know what love is."

Her breathing hitched in nervousness. "Really? That's…nice. Did Mom tell you?"

"Yes. She said that it was…deep caring for someone. Like you always want to be with them. And you would do anything for them."

"Yeah, that pretty much describes it." Had she truly felt that way about Rick? Hmm... She could barely remember anymore. Her time with Rick felt like a rarely thought-of memory.

"I think…" Edgar sat up and looked at her intensely with his large eyes. "I think I love you."

She swallowed hard. _No way._ "I…could you say that again?"

He struggled helplessly with his words. "I love you."

"Do you mean…" She had to make sure. "Love…like…friend? Or family?"

He shook his head vigorously. "No, love like…the other kind."

"Boy and girl love?"

"Yes."

The silence seemed to stretch to infinity, until he began to regret ever opening his mouth. He was on the verge of throwing himself out her bedroom window when she finally spoke.

"Edgar… when I first saw you…you were a wild, dirty, completely weird boy locked in a cage." He hung his head but she put a hand under his chin and forced him to look up. "It's nothing to be ashamed of! Then Mom brought you home and you started to learn how to talk stuff…and it was cute, you know? I mean … you never let me alone, did you?"

He smiled a bit. "No. I thought you were…interesting?"

"Interesting?" she teased lightly. "Is that all?"

"No! Also pretty, and smart -"

"Edgar, I'm joking."

"Oh."

"Where was I? Oh, right. Anyway, I started to notice something. I noticed you were this…wonderful, decent, incredibly intelligent boy, but that nobody else could see that. You had all this love and need for acceptance, but nobody was letting you give it to them."

She paused. Edgar said, a little desperately, "And?"

"And… it hurt, watching you. And then, I realized that you were trying to give the love to someone…and that I – I mean, she – well, doesn't matter now – I liked it. And I wanted to give some back."

She wrapped her arms around his chest. "You…do know what I'm saying, Edgar?"

"I…could you…"

She smiled and said, "Edgar, I love you."

Edgar felt lightheaded. He wasn't sure he had heard right. Or was it a dream? But this felt real. She was sitting there, smiling at him like he was the only person in the world.

"Shelley…" But he had no words for the gratitude and utter devotion swelling within him. He knew, suddenly, that he would do anything for this beautiful, unbelievable girl who had given him what he desired most. He would move the world for her; he would die for her; he would kill for her. And he would never be parted from her. Nothing could ever make him leave Shelley.

"But Edgar…" she said with some worry. "Are you sure…you like me? Completely?"

How could she even ask him that? She saw the hurt in his eyes and hurried to explain. "Look…I think I said this before… I'm the first girl you ever saw. You haven't met anybody else." She smiled, though it was rather bitter. "Sure you don't want to go after that Bat Girl?"

"I love you," was all he could say. She was all he saw when he thought of his future, his life with anyone. He had loved her since the first night when Meredith rescued him and he had seen her, sitting and staring at him with frank curiosity in her eyes. He had loved her in the cage, when she had fed him without qualms. He had loved her while struggling to become 'normal'; why else would he have learned _her_ name first?

"And I love you," she answered.

And then she leaned over and kissed him.


	13. Chapter 13

I put up 4 chapters of _Vignettes_ and get 1 or 2 hits, but I put up 1 chapter of _Thunderclouds_ and get 30 hits. I see how it is.

Things are about to get very interesting...

**CHAPTER 13**

Shelley crept down the dark hallway and pushed open Edgar's bedroom door.

He turned around and his keen eyesight allowed him to see Shelley in her long nightgown, creeping up on him.

She gave a running hop into his bed, bouncing both of them around.

"I thought I'd come to your room for once," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him.

"Oh." He snuggled in.

She snuggled up to him. "This feels nice, doesn't it?"

Nice didn't begin to describe it. He felt complete. His entire world, his reason for being, was lying beside him. There weren't enough words in his vocabulary to describe it.

"You really love me, Shelley?" he asked. He had to be sure. "Even though I…I bite people, and drink their blood, and am an ugly boy?"

She kissed his head. "Yes, and you're not ugly. You're wonderful, and sweet, and if nobody else can see that, then it just means I have you all to myself."

When she put it that way, it didn't sound so bad.

She nestled her head contentedly against his chest as he moved his arm around her. "Love you Edgar," she said sleepily.

"I love you too, Shelley."

* * *

Shelley couldn't remember when she had been happier. She knew that she was in trouble at home and school, that her friends were abandoning her in droves, and that the entire town was out for Edgar's blood and that the only thing keeping them from killing him on the spot was that he was kept safely in their house. Yet between daytime kisses and nighttime cuddles with the oblivious, hopelessly love-stricken boy, she couldn't really find the time or effort to worry.

Summer was making its way and the temperature had risen in a matter of days. That weekend, Shelley came leaping down the stairs, dragging Edgar behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and she laughed lightly, pushing him gently away as her mother looked over.

"Morning, Mom," she said cheerfully, passing Edgar his bowl.

"Good morning dear," her mother answered, giving her an odd look. "You _are_ aware that you are still grounded?"

"Yep." She gulped down her cereal, acting rather like her new boyfriend in her eating habits. Having finished, she tossed both their dishes into the sink and grabbed his arm. "Going to the yard Mom!"

"Wait a minute -" Meredith started.

"Aw, come on Mom! It's just the yard -"

"Well-"

"Cool! Thanks Mom!"

She led Edgar around to the very back, a cool, shaded area with no windows.

"This is the most private place," she told him, pushing him gently against the wall. "I thought we might spend a little time here." She leaned against him and kissed him softly.

It felt like the most wonderful thing – her lips were so soft against him, her hand against his chest sending tingles through him – and a wave of something indescribable ran through him, something he had never felt before.

She finally pulled away, gasping for breath and with a pretty red flush covering her cheeks. Edgar laughed, nuzzling her neck.

For a moment, they were silent, Edgar settling his head on top of hers.

"How do you deal with all this?" he asked her suddenly.

She raised her head. "Deal with what?"

"All…_this_." And he lifted a strand of her hair, with an almost disdainful air.

"I…you…how dare -" she sputtered, finally spitting out, "I deal with it _fine_! In fact…" And a wicked smile curved her lips upward. "How do you deal with out any hair?" And she rubbed his bald skull, very hard.

He ducked away, laughing. She giggled, having never seen him so lighthearted.

"I deal with it fine, too," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. "I _deal_ with it by telling myself that _I -_" jabbing a finger at himself, "-take a shorter time to wash then _you_." He pointed at her accusingly.

"I _soak_," she sniffed.

"You _soak_?"

"Yes. I like my baths, unlike you, Mr. Eat-the-Soap."

"I never -"

"Oh, yes you did! I heard Mom that first night. You gulped down that bar of soap!"

"I...was hungry!"

"You just didn't want a bath!"

They fake-glared at each other. Shelley gave in first, bursting into laughter. Edgar quickly followed suit, laughing so hard he collapsed against the wall.

Shelley sat next to him. "It's nice here, isn't it?" she whispered, her fit of giggles finally ending.

He nodded.

After a pause, she murmured, "You haven't been outside in a while."

"Yes." He quickly added, "I don't miss it."

"Come on. I know you do. People just don't…"

"Want to see me," he finished. He said sadly, all mirth gone, "They hate me."

"They're just stupid, ignorant pigs who scream every time they see something they don't understand." She waited a moment, then said hesitantly, "Mom was saying that…we should move."

He sat up. "Move?"

"Yeah, to another place where they don't know about us, or just someplace without a lot of people around."

He shook his head. "I won't make you move."

"But you've seen the way these people are!" she cried, facing him. "They're going crazy over all of this, and eventually they're going to come here and hurt you!"

"I can defend myself." The look he shot her was overwhelmingly protective, all the strength directed at her well-being, unconcerned for himself. "I won't let them hurt you or your mother."

"But I don't want _you_ hurting others to keep _us_ safe! We need to go away for a few days at least, and let them cool down! Or better yet, leave! Just go! Find another town!"

He moved closer to her. "I don't want to make you do all this."

She wrapped an arm around him. "Mom and I are here to help you. We not just going to _abandon you_ because of some…stupid…hillbilly…hicks!"

He looked straight into her eyes. "I want to be with you." He wasn't a frightened boy. He had imposed on this family enough, and it was time to pay them back. "If they try and hurt you, or take you away…"

"Don't say it," she interrupted quickly. "Please Edgar…don't."

"Shelley," he whispered, "_I will kill them_ if they try to hurt you."

Shelley shivered. The heat was making sweat run down her arms, yet she had just felt a little chill go through her.

"Come on," she said. "Don't say that."

He moved towards her. "Please…don't ever leave me."

She cupped his cheek. "I won't." She kissed him tenderly, entwining her arm over his neck. He finally responded, holding her desperately to his own body, as if he would never let go.

"Ahem."

In one movement Edgar had let go and swept Shelley behind him, half-crouched in a defensive posture. He didn't move even when he realized it was merely the sheriff standing there, eyebrows slightly raised.

"Hello there, Edgar," the sheriff said cautiously. "Is Mrs. Parker inside?"

Shelley pulled Edgar upright and replied, "Yeah. What do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," the sheriff said in that tone that meant that there was quite a lot to worry about. "How about you two stay out here and…um…continue…while I go talk to her, 'kay?"

Shelley shrugged. "Fine."

As soon as the sheriff was inside she ran about the other side of the house directly under a window. She cautioned Edgar to be quiet while they listened.

"…town meeting and you have got to be there."

"I have told them my findings. Edgar has had nothing to do with the murders!"

Beside her, Shelley felt Edgar jerk suddenly.

"They won't quiet down Meredith. Me and the mayor will be there, we'll keep the crowd down. Look, worst thing is that they won't believe you and things stay the same."

"_That's_ supposed to convince me, Sheriff?"

"Best case – you prove to them your boy's a human being who deserves their respect."

Silence.

"You can only help things, Meredith."

She wavered. "I don't know..."

"Listen, the Taylor kid, Rick, he woke up. Whatever's in Edgar's fangs – it's curable. And you haven't even found that cure yet. I think he and his brother are gonna be fine. You just have to go up there, tell them about that, and everything will work out."

Another long silence. Meredith let out an almost inaudible sigh. "Very well Sheriff. I will go. To help Edgar."

"Thank you Meredith," the Sheriff said gratefully. "We'll get them to our side, don't you worry."

"Of course, Sheriff," she answered softly, now moving to the door; their voices were fading.

Shelley pulled away and looked at Edgar, who had drifted to the dirt, his arms curled around his legs.

"They think I'm a killer," he said. He looked at Shelley. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She sat by his side. "Because it wasn't true," she answered, stroking his head. He pushed his face into her body and she held him, wishing she could make the problems, the town, the entire human race fade away.

Meredith left that night, ordering the two teenagers to behave and promising that she would return soon with everything "all better". Shelley watched her mother's car turn the corner, the headlights fading into the darkness.

She walked to Edgar's room and saw him standing at his window too, watching the last, red rays of the sun fade behind the mountains and the woods. She gripped his hand reassuringly.

"I think," she said quietly, "it's time we talked to the people ourselves."

_

* * *

_

_The hours before the meeting…_

* * *

The morning sun lit upon Lorraine and Daisy were silent as Mrs. Taylor finished her tale of woe.

"You're a schoolteacher, aren't you Daisy?" she sobbed. "Wouldn't you want to protect them? Don't let 'em suffer the way my poor babies have suffered!"

The women nodded fervently.

"You're quite right, Mrs. Taylor."

"The Bat Boy is a menace!"

Their heads bobbed in unison.

"Then you know what we gotta do!" Mrs. Taylor pounded her meaty fist. "WE'VE GOTTA KILL THE BAT BOY!"

There was a little silence, finally broken by the sound of Lorraine coughing.

"That's nice, Mrs. Taylor, but… why, we're mothers and wives," she said. "We can't go killin' things – even Bat Boys."

Mrs. Taylor rose to her considerable height (and girth). "So you're saying we let the freak go."

"Oh no!" Daisy cried. "Not at all…but must we kill it? Dirty our hands and dresses with his blood?"

"_Yes_!" Mrs. Taylor roared. "Yes! He must die!" She pointed her finger at them. "And you will – you must – join me! Protect our families! Protect our children!"

* * *

"You hear?" Ned hissed at his one remaining friend, Bud. Bud had been giving the cows their evening milking when Ned had come upon him. He continued to do his work now, not looking at his fanatical friend. "That freak bit another kid! One of the Taylor ones too! He's got a real taste for 'em it seems!"

Bud looked up and softly suggested, "Ned, you ever think about givin' up this Bat Boy business?"

Ned gaped at him for a second, before surprise was replaced with anger. "Not you too Roy! You can't be turnin' on me too!"

"I'm not turnin' on you!" Bud said. "I just think all this yellin' and waving pitchforks around is unwarranted! We're good people, Ned, not the kind to lynch people."

"It's not people we're dealing with!" Ned countered angrily, "It's an animal! A beast! And if you're not with me on this Roy, you ain't my friend."

He turned around and stomped out of the cow pen.

* * *

Harlan Ellis stopped in the parking lot, gazing up at the brightly lit building. A red cross flashed at the top, contrasting brilliantly with the stark white light. The entire building seemed to shine like a beacon in the evening darkness.

Almost like a target, really.

He pulled out a needle and walked in.

* * *

Daisy wrung her hands. "Oh...Must we do that? I do abhor blood." Lorraine nodded her agreement. Mrs. Taylor swelled with rage.

"You wanna leave your children to be sucked dry?" she screeched. "You wanna stay in your houses all day 'cause you're too scared to come out with the bat freak wandering?"

"No!" Daisy cried. "It's just – must we kill it? Perhaps Meredith Parker could put it down for us."

Lorraine quickly chimed in, "Mrs. Parker is a good woman. All she did was rescue the beast, out of the goodness of her heart." The women bobbed their heads in unison; all had had the experience of saving some wounded animal they had found on the streets.

"Maybe we can suggest it to her at the meeting," Daisy added.

* * *

Bud poured out the milk and washed out the pail, setting it in its usual corner. He squinted in the fading light. The sun was setting fast, casting a scarlet light over his land.

He made his way out of the barn towards his chicken coops, finding them in a panic – the luckier ones had perched on the bars overhead, clucking wildly as the ones on the ground fluttered wildly below.

"Hey!" Bud yelled. "What the hell's wrong with you? C'mon, you stupid birds!"

The squawking rose to an ever higher cackling, and as the chickens fled into their coops, Bud saw a pile of feathers lying scattered on the ground. He peered closer, then jumped back, for the they were not feathers – they were a cluster of decapitated chickens.

"What the hell..."

* * *

Ruthie looked up from her vigil by the bed. "Hey Ricky, didja hear that?"

The door opened, and the children stared as Ellis walked in.

"Mr. Ellis?" Ruthie called from her place by the bed. "What're you doin' here?"

* * *

"The hell with the meeting!" Mrs. Taylor cried. "The Sheriff's on her side! We've got to take action!"

The women screeched simultaneously.

"Oh, but the Mayor herself will be there to decide!"

"We can't go running about like an unwholesome _mob_!"

"We must listen to them! They know better!"

Mrs. Taylor looked ready to kill. "NO! The Bat Boy dies TONIGHT!"

* * *

The fading cackle of the chickens had muffled the steps of the man behind him. Only then did Bud whirl about, and even then he didn't think that it might be the killer of his friends behind him – or that he would share their fate.

There was only enough time to see the flash of light on a knife.

* * *

"Don't worry my dear children," Ellis said quietly. "Everything's going to be all right. The Bat Boy will pay for what he's done to you."

He grabbed Ruthie and jabbed the needle in.

"Mr. Ellis!" she cried, then gasped as an icy coldness started to spread from the pinprick at her neck into her cheeks and shoulders.

* * *

"If the Mayor's there, and the Sheriff, they'll tell us what to do!"

"Mrs. Parker's gonna be there! We'll convince her!"

"And Harlan Ellis! He's coming too!"

Mrs. Taylor stopped; the color left her cheeks as a calm betook her. "Mr. Ellis will be there?" she asked coolly. The women nodded, relief coloring their faces.

* * *

Blood splattered across the grass, mixing with the light of the sun.

The chickens, only just calmed, set up a screeching racket, their wings beating rapidly against the fence.

The man stepped towards them, knife raised.

* * *

Ruthie started to claw at her neck, her face, as the coldness spread, now crawling into her eyes. She screamed as her arms fell uselessly at her side, the numb cold spreading. That was the last thing she felt as the injection made its way into her brain. Her eyes rolled up and she could no longer think, no longer feel, no longer see or hear.

Rick yelled, struggling in his bed until it thumped on the floor. She did not feel that. "WHAT THE HELL MAN! WHAT THE HELL'D YOU DO TO MY SISTER?"

"Be quiet young man," Ellis commanded, the needle once again in his hand and filled with the clear, deadly fluid.

The poison reached her heart and lungs and they froze into a block of ice in her chest, trying futilely to pump blood, to get air through her body. Her body was failing.

Ellis continued softly, "This will only hurt a bit." Rick paled, trying to get out of the bed as Ellis loomed over him.

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!"

She did not hear that. And thankfully, she did not see her adored older brother's end.

* * *

"I think I can wait a bit then, ladies," Mrs. Taylor said, now actually smiling. "Yes, you are right – actions like this are too drastic."

"We're so glad you agree, Mrs. Taylor," Lorraine said. "And we do give you our condolences for your children."

"Thank you Lorraine, and you Daisy. My children know you care for them."

* * *

The fittingly crimson light was gone, as were Bud's chickens, and his own life.

The man thought it might have mixed well with the blood. As it was, there was only a gray-blue evening light as the stars and moon lit up the sky.

* * *

Rick Taylor had been weakened by his body's long fight with the venom. His struggles ended faster than his sister's. Now only Ron remained, sprawled unconscious across his bed.

Ellis filled his needle for the last time.

Ron Taylor's death was the quickest of them all.

* * *

"Well ladies, I believe the meeting is upon us. Shall we go?"

* * *

Clem walked unannounced onto Bud's farm, knocking casually at the door.

"Hey Bud, you in?"

* * *

The doctor prepared his medicine and walked into the room holding the two Taylor children.

* * *

Darkness fell over the town.

The people started to gather.

And in the inky blackness, two teenagers sneaked out and began walking towards the meeting house.

* * *

The meeting house was almost filled with people. At the head was Mayor Maggie; by her side, slightly lower from the raised podium, was Sheriff Reynolds, his badge freshly polished and blindingly bright in the lights.

At the back, leaning casually against the door, was Harlan Ellis. Mrs. Taylor smiled slightly as she walked in, nodding at him as if he were an old friend.

Finally, and just on time, came Meredith Parker, walking stiffly in as the entire crowd shuffled about to stare at her.

* * *

I understand this might be confusing. Here's a little timeline:

Late morning - noon: Mrs. Taylor and the ladies

Late noon - evening: Bud and the cows

Night: Hospital


	14. Chapter 14

Okay.

Edgar. Shelley. Rick. (_Bat Boy: The Musical_.)

Edward. Bella. Jacob. (_Twilight_.)

**ED**gar. **ED**ward.

Sh**ELL**ey. B**ELL**a.

Rick. Jacob. Right, scratch that.

I'm sorry. I just wanted to do that. Okay, here's the actual chapter.

**CHAPTER 14**

Halfway into the meeting, Meredith knew it had been a mistake to come. The meeting had rapidly spun out of control as the people, goaded by Harlan Ellis's fury, rose up against her. Mayor Maggie and Sheriff Reynolds had tried to start the meeting quietly, but had instead descended into a shouting match.

"THE BAT BOY HAS UNLEASHED HIMSELF AMONGST YOU!" Ellis roared, arms raised high. The crowd shrieked with him, faces alight with rage. "HE HAS ATTACKED YOUR ANIMALS!"

"The cows! The cows are dyin' because of that freak!"

"HE HAS ATTACKED YOUR FRIENDS!"

"First Roy, then Mr. Dillon! Who's next?"

"HE HAS ATTACKED YOUR FAMILY AND YOUR CHILDREN!"

Mrs. Taylor sobbed loudly, "My children! They'll never walk again!"

Meredith cried out, "No! None of this is true!" She struggled through the roaring crowd to the front, glaring up at Ellis.

"None of the cows showed any sign of being bitten!" she yelled. "There was no venom in their blood! It's the same for Roy and Mr. Dillon! And the Taylor kids are fine! Rick is sitting up, he's _healing_! Edgar is harmless!"

"Liar!" Ellis roared. "He spreads disease amongst you! He is a MURDERER!"

"Yes!" the crowd wholeheartedly agreed.

"A KILLER!"

"_Yes!_"

"AN ABOMINATION!"

"_He is not_!"

All eyes turned to the door, where Shelley stood next to Edgar.

Shelley said, "He is not a murderer!"

"It's him! It's the freak!"

Shelley grabbed Edgar's hand and cried, "Just listen to him! Please!"

"Let them talk!" the sheriff yelled. When the crowd continued to panic, he bellowed, "HEY!" He fired into the ceiling. "I said, 'LET THEM TALK'!"

The crowd shrieked as bits of the ceiling fell on their heads.

"Ah, whoops," the sheriff muttered, embarrassed. "Well...let them talk anyway."

Edgar stepped forward, nervously aware of every hateful glare aimed at him. "I know that you all hate me -"

Suddenly a man burst in - one of the townsman, Clem. He shouted, "BUD'S DEAD!" He suddenly noticed Edgar beside him and yelped, leaping a foot in the air. "IT'S THE THING THAT KILLED HIM! THE BAT BOY KILLED HIM!"

There was a great, roaring silence as every eye turned from Clem and his shocking news to Edgar, shrinking away from them.

Then Ned shot up, pointing at Edgar. "IT KILLED BUD!"

The other man, a doctor, was shoving his way through to Mrs. Taylor; he grabbed her arm and whispered, "Mrs. Taylor, I am so sorry – but your children are dead."

"MY CHILDREN?" Mrs. Taylor shrieked.

The crowd suddenly went still once more.

"What happened, Doctor?" Ellis asked, coming to Mrs. Taylor's side.

The doctor seemed to notice all the people staring at him; meekly he told them, "I'm not sure. The older boy, Rick, was doing fine, and Ron was still sleeping, and Ruthie was there – and then I came in and they were all...dead." The crowd gasped, and he quickly tried to add, "But we don't know the cause -"

Ellis overrode him. "THE CREATURE HAS KILLED AGAIN!"

"MY RICKY? RONNIE? AND RUTHIE?" Mrs. Taylor screamed, collapsing to the floor. "NO! NOT THEM, NOT ALL MY CHILDREN…"

"He spreads disease amongst you!" Ellis yelled.

"NO!" Meredith joined her daughter at the door. "Please! You don't know that, you don't know that he killed -"

Ellis suddenly turned on her; pointing one long finger, he shouted, "The woman has brought the creature amongst us!"

"NO!"

"She is enamored with it!"

"KILLER!"

"We must destroy it, before it destroys us!"

"DIE!" And Mrs. Taylor was rushing upon them. "DIE MONSTER!"

She knocked Meredith out of the way and attacked Edgar with her bare hands. Shelley screamed. The crowd roared in dismay. And then Mrs. Taylor had knocked both Edgar and herself to the ground.

"EDGAR!"

"GET OFF!" Meredith screamed, tearing at the woman like an animal. "GET OFF OF HIM -"

From the ground came a pale blur as Edgar seemed to bounce from the ground and sink his fangs into her face. And Mrs. Taylor howled, clapping a hand to her neck and falling back against Meredith's legs, a scarlet liquid flowing through her large fingers.

Another shriek – the awesome, unified gasp of the crowd – and an arc of blood –

A gunshot rang through the air.

Shelley dragged Edgar off, screaming his name though neither she nor anybody else could hear over the vacuum of noise –

With an insane shriek Edgar shoved himself away from her; stumbling, his face dripping blood, he made his way to the open door and burst from the building into the night.

"EDGAR!"

Shelley ran.

"SHELLEY!"

And Meredith forced herself away from the feebly twisting form of Mrs. Taylor and ran, ran from the building, from the blood, from the accusations –

"YOU HAVE WITNESSED ITS MURDER! FIND IT! KILL IT!"

The doctor, rushing to the injured woman's side, knew it was over for Mrs. Taylor. In his opinion, it was for the best. The woman had been a motherly figure, even aggressive at times, but there had been no denying her love for her children.

He stood up and informed the waiting crowd of his conclusion.

"So now we have lost Mrs. Taylor," Ellis said, bowing his head. The doctor frowned – the man had not been a native of Hope Falls, he knew, but he had been a close confidante of Mrs. Taylor as her children lay sick in the hospital. Yet he did not seem distressed by her death. If anything, he seemed to be…acting.

"I think we should have a few moments of silence," the doctor said, "to mourn the woman and her children, and to prepare an adequate -"

"The monster has gone on a rampage," Ellis told the crowd, ignoring the doctor. "He has been found out – we have discovered his crimes, but unleashed a nightmare upon ourselves!"

"What do we do Ellis?"

"We kill it!" Ned yelled. "We grab our pitchforks, our guns and our torches, and we KILL IT!"

Ellis heaved a great sigh. "Yes. Though I abhor murder – I only wished the creature to be taken back to me, where it would be safe – I'm afraid it is too late. It is an animal lashing out against its master. It has tasted human blood, and it won't stop until its cravings are filled!"

"WE GET IT FIRST THEN!"

"WE STAB IT!"

"WE BURN IT!"

"WE KILL IT!"

* * *

They were coming for him.

He had gone to them and tried to explain everything, but they had not listened. And then…and then he had found that the people he had bitten, mere children really, had died because of him. Because he could not control the insatiable need to drink blood. He had sated himself on Mrs. Taylor's blood mere moments ago, yet already he could feel his hunger returning.

So he ran until he had reached the forest edge, and then continued running, stopping only when his limited energy gave out. Why couldn't he control himself? Meredith had once explained that drinking blood was like normal people eating meat; but normal people didn't pounce on a steak as soon as they smelled it. Normal people could wait, could hold it in.

But he hadn't wanted to drink her blood. He had wanted to hurt her, to punish her for shoving Meredith to the ground, Meredith who had been a mother to him and who had first shown him love and caring. The feelings that had filled him were not hunger – they were drawn from the deepest, darkest depths of his soul.

What kind of being did that make him now? Was it human nature to feel this way? Was he a human at all? Or was he a beast acting as a human? Beasts had no souls. Only beasts felt these dark urgings within him. Was he beast or human? Was he neither? Was he both?

He regained his energy and ran on, knowing that the mob was coming for him, yet wishing he could run as easily from the questions invading his mind.

He leaned against the nearby tree, breathing in the cool night air. He lifted his head upon hearing the eerie shrieks of the bats. They fluttered amongst the branches in a circle above him, squeaking and chattering. It felt almost like they were talking to him…

They fluttered away and he followed unthinkingly, watching their graceful swirls and flutters. They settled over another tree and Edgar sat beneath them trustingly.

"Edgar!"

The bats seemed to explode into the sky, no longer a sentient creature, merely a group of animals. Edgar cried out as they left him.

"Edgar! Is that you?"

Wildly he looked for a place to hide, realizing he was at the edge of the forest again. Then she came crashing through the bushes and grabbed his arm.

"Edgar!" She wrapped him in a tight hug he did not return. "Here you are! Mom and I were so worried!" She started to drag him out. "Come on! We're leaving this stupid town! We need to get your things and pack and -"

Edgar jerked back. "No! I can't, Shelley -"

"What are you talking about? Come on!"

He fell to the cold, damp ground. "I'm a killer...I can't...I'm sorry..."

"Edgar..."

"Go! Just...go..."

She kneeled down. "Edgar..." She started to stroke his face but pulled away sharply when she felt a sticky liquid. He touched his own cheek and felt blood.

"Oh..." He turned away. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't..." She pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped away the mess.

"Come on..." Another tug at his unresponsive form.

"Please, Shelley..."

"Shh..." She leaned over and kissed him softly.

He stared at her, eyes wide in the darkness.

"Come on," she said again, pulling him up and leading them further into the woods.

This time, he followed.

* * *

Meredith hurried out of the meeting house, the images of the mob burned into her eyes.

She reached the darkness of the parking lot and quickly made her way home, checking the streets for her daughter and Edgar. But none were out; most had been at the meeting, and they remained there, pulling out their weapons and plotting the murder of an innocent boy.

It was so unfair! She had known what Shelley and Edgar had intended – they, in their naïvely idealistic state, had hoped to win over the town, merely by talking to them. As if a few minutes of speech could undo the harm Harlan Ellis had unleashed upon all of them.

They would have to run. The children would return to the home soon, and they would pack up and flee the town. She had cousins who would take her in while they searched for a new home – a beautiful little house, she decided, with three bedrooms for all of them, in an isolated area where Edgar could feed as he wished.

She reached her home without incident and instantly grabbed the suitcases from the closet, though not before peering out the window. But nobody was on the street.

She pushed the curtains back and picked up the suitcase, mentally planning the things they would need. They would need several changes of clothing, of course – all the loose money they had, and any she could retrieve from the local bank, if she had time – some food, in case they had to stay in a motel – hygienic products –

The list stopped when she heard a distant rumble. Quickly she dropped the suitcases and peered out once more, the uneasiness growing as the sound drew nearer.

"Oh my God."

The mob. A distant orange glow in the distance. They were coming for Edgar. They were coming here.

She pulled the curtains closed and shoved the suitcases away. It was insanity – she couldn't run, she could only stay, hope for them to pass by – but she knew that it was their home they would go to first, wrongly thinking that Edgar would naturally escape here. It was their uncontrollable bloodlust that she feared, for she knew that a mob like this would not hesitate to kill innocents in pursuit of their twisted version of justice.

She could hide. But where in this tiny house was there a place to hide? The downstairs area was entirely open; the bedrooms had no locks on them; the bathrooms did, but none that would sustain blows from a determined crowd. The closets would be the first place searched if they found nothing –

The howling reached the door, the flames from the torches flickering even through the heavy curtains, as with a crash, her door was knocked in.

"THERE'S THE WOMAN WHO BROUGHT THE BAT BOY AMONGST US!" Ned yelled. The crowd screamed incoherently and surrounded her.

"WHERE'S THE BAT BOY!"

"GIVE HIM TO US!"

"He's not here!" Meredith cried, finding herself backed into the wall. "He's not here, he's gone away!"

"BULLSHIT!" Ned shrieked into her face. "YOU'RE HIDING HIM!"

"SEARCH THE HOUSE!"

"I'm telling you, he's not here! He's -"

"LIAR!"

"SHE'S HELPING THE BEAST!"

"MAKE HER TALK!"

Oh God, they were surrounding her –

The second gunshot of the night cracked the air, as well as the ceiling.

"Enough of this!" the sheriff barked, marching in looking madder than anyone had ever seen him. "Do you hear what you are doing?"

"Sheriff -"

"Please, she's hidin'-"

"You are breaking into a house and attacking an innocent woman!" the sheriff roared. The people seemed to shrink upon hearing their crimes.

He continued, still loudly, "I want all of you out! Search the streets, guard your houses, but do not try breaking the law under my watch, do you hear!"

The people muttered their agreement and shuffled out the door.

When they were out, Meredith let out a whimpering gasp and whispered, "Thank you Sheriff…"

"Meredith," he said coldly, "I want that boy out of the town by morning."

She drew in a quick, stunned breath. "Oh, Sheriff -"

He raised a hand. "I have always held you in the greatest respect, Meredith." He sighed, looking very tired. "But I saw that boy attack Mrs. Taylor with little provocation -"

"Sheriff, she was -"

"I know. But seeing him with all that – that blood – like an animal – it will haunt me, Meredith. For the rest of my life… I can see it…" He shook his head. "And look what he has done to this town."

She opened her mouth in outrage but he simply ignored her and said, "Whether or not he intended to do that, he has made the town insane. For all of our sakes, Meredith – leave."

The command in his voice suddenly struck her, made the situation clear as never before. They were leaving – essentially being kicked out. She nodded tearfully, knowing just how futile arguing would be.

He nodded dejectedly. "I will search the woods for them, Meredith. You have my word – I won't let them come to harm at the townspeople's hands."

"Thank you Sheriff," Meredith choked out. "For everything."

"I am…so sorry, Meredith."

* * *

The part where Edgar and Shelley kiss was inspired by the beginning of a specific video of Bat Boy I saw on YouTube, entitled '"Kill the Bat Boy!"/The Slaughterhouse (11/14)"; it was done by North Springs High School. The first part was sweet.


	15. Chapter 15

Edgar. Shelley. Rick.

Erik. Christine. Raoul.

**E**dgar. **E**rik.

S**h**elley. C**h**ristine.

**R**ick. **R**aoul.

Stay tuned next chapter for...yeah, I've got nothing.

All right, no more stalling. Here we go.

Oh, there's some definite sexual moments in here. Nothing very specific, and I cut off before much happened, but still, it's there. Let me tell you, it was hard to write.

**CHAPTER 15**

_So at last he ran away, frightening the little birds in the hedge as he flew over the palings. "They are afraid of me because I am ugly," he said._

_- The Ugly Duckling_

* * *

Shelley's grip on his arm never loosened, never wavered. They walked through the woods, whipping past thick tree trunks and low bushes, hair and clothing whipped by the lower branches, feet crunching through leaves.

Presently the ground began to rise, their footing more difficult to find; Shelley slipped once or twice and was caught by Edgar, but she only ran on, forcing both of them further up.

The tree line ended and Edgar found himself facing the cave once more.

Shelley pushed down her fear, knowing that no one from the town knew the place and would certainly not find them there. "We'll hide in here," she whispered, pulling him into the pitch darkness of the cave after only a little hesitation.

After walking only a few feet in though, she stopped.

"Shelley?" Edgar asked; his eyes seemed to glow.

"I can't see any further. Let's stay here -"

"I...see well in this light." He switched their grip and pulled her shivering body close to his. "Hold on to me."

He walked steadily on, feeling her shaking grow with every step further from the already negligent light at the opening.

"Edgar, I'm scared."

"Shh…"

"Is there anything ahead?"

"Nothing. Keep holding on."

The entire cave was silent; even the bats had left the cave. The only sounds were their steps against the stone ground and a distant trickling of water.

Shelley screamed. "I hit something!"

Edgar looked down. "It's only a flashlight." He handed it to her and she flicked it on with a great sigh of relief. "Now you can see too."

She flicked the light in his face, temporarily blinding him. "You really see well in the dark?" she asked.

"Yes." He blinked until the stinging had stopped.

"That's so cool! I wish I could do that!"

Oh, but would she want to be a bloodsucking Bat Girl?

Shelley slid down against the rough cave wall.

"We'll wait here for the night," she said, "and we'll sneak back to Mom in the morning. No one's going to find us," This was said to reassure herself as much as him. "They don't know about this place, only the Taylor -" She stopped. It was too much to take in - that all three of the Taylor kids had simply died. And Rick...she felt a heavy guilt settle in her. Rick had been her boyfriend, her very first boyfriend. She couldn't believe he was dead. She hadn't even gone to visit him in the hospital...

"Shelley?" Edgar's voice was tinged with worry. "Are...you all right?"

"I'm fine." She sounded abnormally high-pitched. "I'm fine." She struggled to push thoughts of Rick and his siblings away, though imaginary images kept coming back - the three lying dead on the hospital floor, a pool of blood around them...or maybe they were still in their beds, only thin and wasted from disease...

Most of all, she tried to keep back her most traitorous thoughts - that maybe it _was_ something in Edgar's fangs that had killed them...and then she remembered him sucking the blood from Mrs. Taylor, and she shuddered.

He could see her face, though she didn't know it. He saw the doubt and knew it was aimed at him. When he moved she jerked in fright and spun the light into this face. He backed away.

He could make this all better.

"Shelley…go home."

"What?"

He couldn't bear to look at her. All he knew was that it was his fault that they were hiding like criminals, and that to make it all better, he needed to disappear.

"Leave. Forget me. Live out your life…" Without me… "Don't let me destroy your life too."

He heard her stand. Now she would leave him. It was for the best. If she stayed with him...at best, they would have to flee, go into hiding. At worst...they could be caught, she might be accused of harboring a...killer...or she might die. He had thought he could control his rage, but seeing Mrs. Taylor attack Meredith...he had lost control. What if Shelley made him angry? What if he attacked her?

Shelley, however, was not leaving. He must have seen or felt something...gotten wind of her thoughts, realized that she was losing her trust in him. Shame swept over her. Whatever he had done, he had done unintentionally, and she knew that. They had all know that, even assured him that he was not the one at fault.

She was not leaving.

"Edgar…" She stood and joined him. "This better not be one of those stupid, self-sacrificing things!"

"_What_?"

"You are _not_ going to...give me up...or do anything like that -"

"It isn't that!"

"Then _what_ is it?"

"Can't you see?"

"_See what?_" she cried. "I don't see at all! What is it, what are you so scared of?"

"ME!" he yelled, pushing himself into her. "Me, Shelley! That's that I'm scared of – that I might hurt you!"

Oh…and now she understood. Her Edgar, her dear, sweet boy…

She stood up and rested her hand on his chest.

"Edgar…you won't ever hurt me…" Her hand slid up to the back of his neck, pulling him into her embrace and her tender kiss. He tried to move away, but he couldn't resist her – she was like blood to him, a constant craving ever since he had seen her.

Without thinking she pulled him to the floor, still clutching on to him, running her hands over his body. There was only them in the cave, them and this powerful need swelling within her – and within him.

He murmured, "Shelley, stop."

She whispered back, "No."

She pulled off his jacket and his shirt and rolled over until she was on top, divesting herself of her own dress.

"Wait -"

"No Edgar. Now."

She was wearing only her bra and underwear now. The flashlight rolled from their side, but the lack of illumination didn't matter to either anymore.

"I love you Edgar." It was spoken in a breathless gasp, followed by the lightest of movements as her last bits of clothing were tossed to the ground.

He reached up and embraced her, before they both tumbled to the floor.

In the night sky the bats chirped quietly, fluttering away, leaving the boy and girl alone in the cave.

* * *

If one were to check on the Parker household, they would find it surprisingly quiet. The loudly obnoxious girl and the crawling, creeping boy just learning to get by in the world were gone. Only the mother remained, but she would not be asleep, as one might expect. Even as the sun started to rise she remained in the living room, a statuesque figure, waiting.

A night filled with equal parts tension and relief had passed for Meredith Parker. Tension, because her children were still out in the woods. Relief, because she had not seen the mob, nor heard any news. She had not been called to the door to retrieve the remains of the boy, or been called to the police station to pick up grief-stricken.

The sunlight glowed through the curtains, the yellow-orange hue reminiscent of the torches of the mob that had tried to attack just a few hours ago. But there was nobody in the house but herself.

She sat in a numbing silence, her mind empty of any thought. All she could do was wait – wait for her children to return from out of wherever they were hiding, or wait for the Sheriff to come back with a body. Wait.

* * *

There were no nightmares in his sleep now. There was only bliss.

He came out of his contented state at a slow-as-molasses pace. First he heard a chattering of bats as they settled above him, like a friend welcoming him back. Then he registered that there was a very faint light shining against his eye sockets. Finally, he felt a soft warmth against his arm. Only then did he open his eyes and take in his unfamiliar surroundings, and the very familiar girl dozing next to him.

Her hair was disheveled, no longer in their normal, neat little ponytails; she wore only his shirt, covered in his jacket for warmth. She had spread it over him as well. He did not remember her doing that. He remembered very little of their night – yet at the same time he could recall certain moments very sharply, the images and feelings and sensations imprinted into him. She had held him, kissed him everywhere, accepting every deformity and scar, until his entire body had been covered with her loving touch.

She mumbled something and pressed her face deeper. Edgar sighed contentedly and pushed back loose strands of hair. She remained, in her messy state, the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He would never understand why she would leave everything behind for somebody like him.

Or maybe he did understand. Because he felt that way about her – that he would abandon friends, family, the world, just to be by her side. From hoping for a glance, a smile, he had gone to this – a genuine love between them both.

They wanted to take her from him. He knew. Nobody would smile upon their union, with the exception of Meredith. Nobody would want a girl like her to be with a freak of nature.

But they would not take her from him. He would die before that happened. He would kill for her.

Shelley rolled closer and opened her eyes, smiling sweetly up at him. "Morning, Edgar."

"Good morning, Shelley."

She sat up and giggled; she was wearing his shirt, and he remained naked under their makeshift blanket. He quickly fumbled for his own clothing, managing to slip on his pants before she leaped around him.

"I guess this makes you mine," she said, nuzzling her face into his neck, the roughness of the scars repulsing her not a bit. He turned around and kissed her deeply, moving her face into an area not so damaged.

She pulled him into her and fell down on the cave floor, giggling, and was on the verge of reciprocating in a more appropriate manner when he suddenly twisted himself off of her.

"What is it?" she asked.

He shook his head and moved to the other side of the cave. She followed, puzzled. Had she done something wrong?

"Edgar?"

When he failed to answer she ran to him and hugged his back. He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his cheek, and then immediately wished he hadn't. Her scent was overpowering – sweat and perfume and the overpowering scent of blood, pulsing just under her pale skin. He was desperately hungry.

He threw her off and scooted farther away, wrapping his arms around his knees tightly, drawing himself up in a futile attempt to keep himself under control. Yet still she followed, a worried frown creasing her brow.

"Edgar -" His stomach chose that moment to growl, insisting on food. Shelley paused, and Edgar saw the dawning understanding come over her.

"Oh…" she said.

Yet did not turn away in disgust, as he half-feared, half-hoped she would. She moved in front of him and placed a firm hand on his arm to prevent him from turning away.

"You're hungry!" she exclaimed, sitting back on her knees.

"Shelley -" he started to say, but she interrupted:

"Edgar, if you're hungry…" To his utter horror she lifted up her bare arm. "I know how to help you."

He broke away from her grip and shoved himself against the tree, whimpering, "I can't! Shelley, it's wrong, it's bizarre!…I'll kill you!"

"You won't! I trust you!" Shelley cried, holding her wrist to him. "Come on Edgar! It's this or starve!"

"I'll starve, then!" he screamed. Her blood, it was calling to him, and he wanted to badly to grab her and sink his mouth into her – he saw her face, alit with trust and adoration, and he shrieked, falling to the ground and forcing his gaze away.

"GO! GET AWAY FROM ME!" he yelled. To Shelley's shock he smashed himself against the rock wall and collapsed to the ground. He moaned, "Please leave…"

"No!"

"Let me die…"

"NO!" She ran to him and pushed his limp form into her lap. "Drink! Now!" She thrust her arm at him, and he had no energy to resist.

"I'll hurt you -" was his last, desperate attempt to make her run.

"I don't care."

And she opened his mouth for him and shoved the side of her open wrist to his fangs.

The scent of her overwhelmed all his reason and he bit down. She forced back her cry of pain and was knocked to the floor as he suddenly pounced, his fangs sinking through her thin arm.

"_EDGAR_-"

She fell over, screaming his name as a fire ripped up her arm and down her body, into her head. She shrieked once as her entire body went stiff of its own accord – then again, and again, and again, as she twisted maddeningly against his hold, as nightmarish images filled her –

And Edgar couldn't stop. He could hear her cries for help and her pleading voice, and he knew that she was in pain and _he_ was causing it – yet this part of his brain could only thump weakly against the animalistic hunger that had taken over him in an unimaginable way –

And he drank – her blood was like none other, it was so good, and he wanted more – and he had forgotten one thing. They both had forgotten. There was nobody around to stop him from drinking too much. Nobody was there to shove him away. So Shelley's screams weakened into a pitiful whimper, then into silence, her violent convulsion giving way to a cold stillness.

So when Edgar's hunger was finally sated, he pulled away and found her lying in front of him with her eyes closed and her skin bone-white.

"Shelley…" He clambered over her body and started to scream wildly. "SHELLEY!"

He fell by her side and howled his grief and guilt, begging her near lifeless body to rise, before succumbing to a mindless quiet.

* * *

Day had fully risen.

"No sign of 'im," Clem said gruffly to Ned. "Think he's run off?"

Ned snorted. "Don't matter if he's run across the country. We'll get 'im."

The others nodded, muttering their agreement.

"He's gotta be in the woods," Ned continued. "We searched the houses, the school, the church – so that's the only place left for 'him to be."

"Wood's is huge, though," Clem murmured. "Might take a while to find 'im."

"You thinkin' of backin' out, Clem?" Ned asked threateningly.

"Course not," Clem answered quickly. He waved an arm towards the wood, still wielding a pitchfork. "C'mon men! We're searchin' the woods!"

They roared happily and marched off, eyes scoping out the area for the dreaded Bat Boy.


	16. Chapter 16

We are, once again, getting near the end.

One random thing about this musical is that I don't exactly know what period of time this falls in. Meredith's way of talking and acting seemed like one of those 1950s housewives, Shelley's rebelliousness might fall more near the present, and the farmers seem to represent those stereotypical backwoods rural types with a mindset straight from the Dark Ages. This is sort of why I never integrated cell phones or computers into this; for me, anyway, it seemed to clash with the setting.

All right, I've talked enough. Here we go. More angst!

**CHAPTER 16**

Sick with self-loathing, Edgar almost vomited up all Shelley's blood; only the fact that it would make her sacrifice futile stopped him. He covered her with clothing, fed her water from the cave spring, and never left her side. That day he spent in an endless cycle of remorse and hatred, unable to forgive himself for hurting the girl he loved.

He dozed on and off next to her, always waking up with only a few hours of sleep. Images of Shelley struggling against him haunted his mind. He had heard her scream, but it was as if he had not registered it. And he hadn't, not when his hunger overpowered his reason.

It always came back to that. His ugliness made him a spectacle; his thirst for blood, an outcast. He was not a boy. He was not even an animal, for animals could control their needs too. He was a monster, a freak. He deserved to be locked in a cage where he would harm nobody.

When night fell he checked on Shelley, and felt a wild hope rise in him. She seemed to be…healing. The large marks on her arm had finally clotted; her breathing was long and peaceful. She appeared to be only sleeping.

He lay down at her side and tentatively took her hand. He thought of the terrible day, second only to this one; the day he had bit Rick and Shelley had turned on him. How he had cowered then. He had learned to fear her anger, and had promised to never, ever, bite another person. Yet he did, and then he had learned just what a forgiving person she was. She had never yelled at him again.

He loved her. He loved her more than Meredith Parker, who had taught him and showed him a mother's love. He loved her more than life, and certainly more than he loved himself.

He thought back to the hazy memories of a cage and a gawking crowd, of nights spent imprisoned, of a strange man's abuse. He had wanted, then, to be left alone. Then Meredith had rescued him and introduced him to the world, and he had wanted to please her and her daughter, Shelley. As he learned, he wanted more – he wanted to be accepted by the world. But how that dream had been shattered.

Was it too much to ask for love? He had thought not. Evidently people, or society, or God, or his own body, thought it was.

Now all he wanted was for Shelley to live.

He prayed then. _Dear God, let Shelley live. Let her wake up._ If she did, he would leave. He would run away and never come back. He would go somewhere to die an animal's death. He would throw himself before the mob and let them shoot him down.

He cradled Shelley's head in his lap then. He wanted to enjoy his last few hours with her. Happiness was not meant for him.

A day passed. Exhausted from his soul-searching, he fell asleep once more.

* * *

Ned's bloodlust had not been slaked. All three of his friends were dead, as were women and children. And all because of this one freak who was like a poison upon the town. He would not rest until he had shot down the creature himself.

The woods were being scoured by others, but he had gone off alone. He had heard rumors of a place on the hill where the bats lived…

The cave appeared suddenly before him, free of the trees. The inside was dark, the large ridge in front preventing sunlight from penetrating its interior. Ned aimed his long rifle carefully and listened.

"Shelley…"

Was that the wind, or the monster?

"Shelley, please…"

Could animals talk?

"Wake up, please…"

He crept inside, gun cocked and ready. Shelley was the name of the missing Parker girl. She was in league with the creature – hadn't she brought it to the town meeting? – but he didn't want to attack her. The naïve young thing had probably been brainwashed by her mother.

He heard shuffling. The whispers continued.

"Say something…"

Ned fumbled in his kit and found a light. Quickly he turned it on, throwing the light into the face of the Bat Boy, not ten feet from him.

The boy cried out, shielding his eyes. Ned pushed the gun up, glaring at him.

"Let the girl go!" he yelled.

Edgar blinked the tears from his eyes. It was one of the ranchers, glaring at him with pure loathing. But all he saw was salvation.

"Shelley…" He lifted the girl up, and Ned saw with shock that she was unconscious and pale as death. Her arm flopped over, a gaping wound contrasting starkly against her skin.

"Sweet Jesus, _what the hell did you do to her_?" Ned yelled, his finger itching for the trigger.

Edgar recoiled. "I didn't -"

"Give her to me, now, you – you monster!" The gun was only a few feet from Edgar's head, and Ned found himself thinking, _Just shoot, you can't miss, and you'll be doing the world a favor –_

"Please…" Edgar stood, cradling Shelley, offering her… "Take her, please…"

_Ah, God, is that how you want it? _It was so simple, so right. _Give her up to this man. He would take her back to Meredith. And he would run. Or be shot. _His prayer had been answered, he thought blissfully, stepping closer, offering Shelley to Ned like a sacrifice.

Ned stepped forward, gun still held high, and touched Shelley's shoulder.

With a not so much as a jolt as a weak stirring, she awoke.

"Edgar?" she mumbled; instinctively she wrapped her arms around him/

Edgar almost collapsed. "Shelley…"

She groaned; he kneeled down, stroking her hands. "What….what happened?" She was so tired, so weak….Rather like after she had suffered a fever for over a week. During that time, she had drifted in and out of consciousness and finally woken up all healed, but dizzy and unsteady on her feet.

"Nothing…" He kissed her forehead, starting to sob.

She raised a hand and touched his wet cheek. "Why are you crying?" she asked. She blinked. "And where is that light coming from?"

She turned towards the source, squinting.

"Who is that?" she called.

Ned tightened his grip on the gun. "It's me, Ned," he said. "Get out of there -"

"What?" she whispered, trying to sit up. "And Edgar?"

"I'll deal with him," Ned growled. He aimed the gun at Edgar's head; the boy didn't even move.

"No..." Shelley dragged herself up, blocking him. "No, get away from him..."

"Get out of the way, girl!" Ned yelled, trying to move around her.

"_I won't let you kill him._"

Edgar grabbed her. "Shelley -"

"Don't you touch her!" Ned roared.

Shelley protested, "_He's not hurting me!_"

"Move it! Or I'll blast both of you!"

This time both Shelley and Edgar screamed, "NO!"

"LET GO! ON THE COUNT OF THREE!"

"_NO!_"

Edgar looked from the angry man to Shelley, who was panicking and trying to use him as a support.

"ONE!"

One thought made it through Edgar's mind.

"EDGAR GET BEHIND ME!"

That the man was going to kill Shelley.

"TWO!"

No.

"THR -"

"NO!" Edgar screamed and he was on the ground and on top of Ned and his teeth had sunk into Ned's neck, but he wasn't going to feed – he was going to _kill_ – and as he closed on Ned's flesh he snapped his own head back, ripping off half of Ned's neck and sending a spray of arterial blood into his face and chest –

Ned tried to scream but it came out as a bubbly gurgle. His last thoughts were of the fiery pain lashing his body and to try and stem the blood flow and to kill the _thing_ standing on him – and then he was gone.

Edgar stood and shuddered, hunched over. Blood dripped from his mouth and bare chest. Slowly he turned to face Shelley. There was only shock and horror on her face as she stared at the body. A moan came out and he fell to the ground, curling up.

He heard Shelley make her way over to him. She whispered, "Edgar?"

"Go away, Shelley," he mumbled. "Please go."

She pushed his legs apart from his head. "Edgar, look at me." He refused to do so and she placed a hand under his chin and tilted his face up. "Let me clean you up."

Puzzled, he only sat while she pulled out a handkerchief and wiped at his face and chest. When the blood was gone she pulled him over and kissed him.

When she pulled back he was crying softly.

She hugged him and he pushed his head into the crook of her neck. She rocked him like a child, knowing only that he was in pain, and continued to comfort him.

"Edgar, it's okay…Shh…It's okay…I'm right here…"

They made their way down the hill soon after, stopping only to roll Ned's body deep into the cave and to properly dress themselves. Shelley continued to brush dirt off her dress as they walked, Edgar gripping her arm as if afraid she would collapse without him. Though she protested the treatment at first, she soon found herself grateful for the support as they half walked, half slid down the slope to their house. Before long, her limited energy was drained, and she found herself pleading for a stop.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, leaning against a nearby tree. "I'm just sort of tired…"

He sat at her feet. "It's fine." It _was_ his fault that she was so weak.

She gave up on standing and lay down so that her head was in his lap. "Let me just rest a bit -"

"You don't need to explain -"

"We'll get moving soon -"

"No, only when you're ready -"

They stopped, both feeling awkward.

"I think I'm feeling better now," she said, sitting up.

He held onto her and urged, "Sit down some more."

"Edgar, I'm fine, really." She kissed him.

He tucked her head under his chin, inhaling her scent. She closed her eyes and listened to the quiet thump of his heartbeat, the steady rhythm lulling her into a light doze.

He regretfully shook her awake, and they continued their trek. The woods seemed to be thinning; Shelley thought she could see their house near the bottom.

Right at the edge Edgar stopped her and moved to face her.

"Shelley, there's something I have to ask you."

"What?"

He quickly let go of her and backed away, talking to a point on the ground. "Shelley, I know I've – I've hurt you – and made so many terrible things happen -"

"What? No, no you haven't -"

"Yes I have!" he exclaimed. "And everybody hates me for it, except you." He paused. "And I'm still not sure why."

"I love you," she told him earnestly.

"I love you too," he answered, taking her hand. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, "Shelley – will you marry me?"

Shelley was silent for a full moment and he started to stutter and wonder if he hadn't mistaken all the signs. But then she squealed and leaped on him, kissing him ecstatically.

"Yes! Yes, I will I will I will!"

"You will?" he repeated breathlessly.

"I will! Yes, I will marry you!"

As he grabbed her and whirled her about in a very un-Edgar-like manner, sending her into another laughing fit and prompting him to kiss her face over and over again, he couldn't recall ever being so happy. At that moment, all he felt was inexpressible joy, a feeling that seemed to bubble within him until he finally let it out, laughing with the girl he loved as they tumbled to the ground.

They made their way down, Shelley giving a final straightening to her clothes and hair.

"We'll tell Mom the good news," she said as they crept through the backyard, "and we'll get out of this stupid town and find a church and be married today, okay?"

"You don't want a wedding? A dress? A ring?" he asked. His idea of wedding had been gathered from books and movies and Shelley and Meredith's interior fantasies.

"All I want is you, standing there waiting for me," Shelley said gently. She pulled him along.

"Shelley, will your mother be happy for us?" Meredith was the only other person he loved, and he craved her approval almost as much as Shelley's.

"Of course she will be," Shelley assured him. "Don't worry about anything."

She tried the back door, found it locked, and moved to the front. Finding it locked too (residents of Hope Falls almost never locked their doors; there simply weren't enough people to commit major crimes), she rang the doorbell.

"Whoa, Mom, what happened to you?" she said when she saw Meredith. Her mother had dark bags under her eyes; her normally neat hair was mussed up, and it looked like she had decided to sleep in her old clothes.

"What happened to me?" her mother repeated. She grabbed her daughter's shoulders and started to shake her. "What happened was that _I waited for you for two horrible nights, for you to come home! And you didn't!_"

Uh oh…

Meredith dragged both into the home and out of sight of any wandering mob. "_Where were you Shelley? I waited for you to come back and you didn't! Do you know how WORRIED I was? Do you know what you PUT ME THROUGH?"_

Shelley tried to apologize, but her mother went on without pausing:

"YOU WILL GO TO YOUR ROOM AND _PACK!_" The last was said in a high-pitched shriek. "AND THEN YOU WILL GET IN THE CAR AND AS SOON AS WE GET A HOME, YOU ARE _GROUNDED! FOR A MONTH!"_

"Mom!"

"_NO QUESTIONS! GET YOUR BUTT UP AND –"_ Only now did Meredith take her first full look at her daughter. She cried out, "_Shelley, what happened?_"

"Nothing!" Shelley said loudly as her mother dragged her and Edgar to a sofa.

"Don't lie to _me_, Shelley!" Meredith was rushing around, feeling her forehead, checking her pulse – her eyes bulged when she saw the wound. "What is this? Shelley, did they -"

Shelley snatched her arm away. "It's nothing! I…fell!"

"Shelley…"

"Really! I'm fine…"

"Shelley, I am your mother…"

"…can't I just go pack?"

"…and you can't lie to your mother!"

"I bit her."

Both women turned towards Edgar, mirrored expressions of surprise on their faces.

Edgar tried not to shrink beneath Meredith's gaze. "I…bit her," he repeated.

"But it wasn't his fault!" Shelley suddenly interjected, almost placing herself before him. "Mom, I made him drink my blood, because he was starving to death – and he couldn't help himself, so I was sick, but only for _a little while_ – please Mom, don't yell at him!"

There was one of those tense silences. Meredith drew a breath.

"Of course I won't yell at him," she said, giving them both a queer smile. "Now run along you two, you must go get packed."

Both teenagers blinked.

"Uh, okay Mom…" Edgar tried to say something but she nudged him in the ribs, silencing him. "Wait, Mom… we're leaving, right?"

"Why yes, dear," Meredith replied, dumping bags near the entrance.

"Where are we going?"

"Out of this town first."

"So could we…drop by a church later on?"

Meredith shot them a puzzled glance. "A church? Whatever for?"

"Well…" Shelley took Edgar's hand. "Edgar proposed to me – and I said yes!"

She waited for her mother to explode with happiness, jump about crying congratulations, and shower them with affection and joy. It didn't happen.

Meredith did, however, start frowning. "What do you mean 'Edgar proposed'?"

Shelley rolled her eyes in exasperation. "When we were in the woods, Edgar asked me to marry him! And I said yes!" She grinned wildly, and saw out of the corner of her eye Edgar, also smiling. She pulled closer to him, hugging him tightly.

Meredith, far from becoming happy, was shocked. "What? Marry?"

"Yes!"

"No. You can't marry Edgar!"

Shelley stared at her. "But Mom, I want to! We're in love!" She turned around and started to kiss Edgar, just to show her mother that they were really, truly in love, but was shoved apart from him by Meredith.

"No! You cannot be in love with Edgar!" Meredith cried, utterly panicked.

"Mom!"

"It's hideous, it's not right!"

"You're just like everyone else!" Shelley shrieked, beside herself with anger. "You don't love him, you don't know him like I do! You think he's some kind of freak!"

"No!" Meredith cried. "No, Shelley, you don't understand!"

"If you won't accept us Mom, then we're running away for good! C'mon Edgar!"

Edgar grabbed her hand and forced her to stop. His face was drained of all emotion.

"Mrs. Parker, why do you hate me?" he asked with quiet desperation.

Meredith gasped, "I don't hate you Edgar."

"Then why do you wish to take Shelley away from me?" He clutched at the girl's hand, pressing her to his chest. "Why do you want to get rid of the one good thing in my life?"

"You can't be together! It's wrong, it's abnormal!"

"Shut up!" Edgar suddenly roared, and without warning he shoved Meredith against the wall.

"Edgar!" Shelley cried, but he ignored her.

"You will not tear us apart!" He forced her neck back and prepared to bite but Shelley screamed and shoved herself in front.

"Edgar, don't!"

He stared at her, and there was no bloodlust in his eyes. All she saw was love, and an overwhelming desire to protect her from what he saw was an enemy.

"I will do what I must," he told her, and with a strangely gentle movement, pushed her to his side and lunged for Meredith's neck.

"_EDGAR I'M YOUR MOTHER!_"

Everything froze.

"What?"

"Edgar…" Meredith said tearfully. "I'm your mother. And Shelley is…"

_My sister…_

_Oh God no…_

"No…" he mumbled brokenly. "No, that can't be…" He twisted towards Shelley wildly, but she wasn't looking at him – why wasn't she _looking at him_…? "She's not! She can't be! _I love her_!"

Meredith was crying in earnest now, Shelley's stricken face and Edgar's broken form tearing at her. "I'm so sorry Edgar, I should have told you at the beginning, but I didn't – I couldn't -"

"Mom…" Shelley's whimper cut through their hysteria like a knife. She sat and stared at them both, face drawn. "Mom, how can he be _my brother_?"

Meredith looked from one teenager to the other, seeing the same devastation, the same shock, mirrored on their faces. Both were her children, yet both had, unknowingly, done the unthinkable and fallen in love. And now they were demanding that her darkest secrets be revealed.

She took a breath and faced them both. It was time to tell them everything.

* * *

I feel like I'm breaking the drama here. But I just wanted to know (or maybe I should put up a poll?): whom exactly do you envision for all these people? Because, and I'm not sure if anyone's noticed, I don't describe ANYONE except Bat Boy, and that's because his appearance is constant across almost all productions. But Shelley? Meredith? Dr. Parker? The rest? I though readers might see their own school/college production's version of the characters, or maybe they were lucky enough to see the off-Broadway or UK version and that's what they envision...and I didn't want to ruin that. So my question is: whom do you see when reading Bat Boy fanfiction? (Me, I sort of see Kerry Butler and Deven May. Though sometimes I see my school's version of it too in my head.)


	17. Chapter 17

Don't kill me.

**CHAPTER 17**

_With a final, muscle-tearing push, the pain ended and the screams of an infant, thrust into the cold world, began._

"_A beautiful baby girl!" the nurse declared, holding a bloody but healthy newborn._

"_A girl…" Meredith gasped. She smiled at Thomas, who had gripped her hand the entire delivery. "Thomas, isn't that wonderful? A girl…"_

"_We will call her Shelley," Thomas agreed; if he was disappointed that he had no boy, he didn't show it. As far as Meredith could see, there was only radiant happiness. He added, "She's as pretty as you, Meredith."_

_She smiled at him. "I love you, Thomas."_

_Surprised, he took a moment before replying, "I…love you too."_

_She sighed in bliss. Everything would be fine now. Their child was born, a lovely girl unmarked by the terrible circumstances of her conception. Already Meredith could feel the love for Thomas growing, and she rejoiced in it. It had been too long._

_She gasped suddenly as a sharp pain shot through her._

"_Meredith!" Thomas cried. "What is it?" He stood and yelled for the nurse._

_The nurse rushed over. "Hold on Meredith! It might just be -" Shock overtook her features. "Wait a minute – there's something else -"_

_The pain intensified and Meredith screamed._

"_Push!"_

"_What do you mean 'push'?" Thomas yelled._

"_Push Meredith!"_

_Meredith bore down by instinct alone and collapsed against her pillows as she heard the second shriek._

"_OH MY GOD!"_

"_WHAT THE HELL IS IT?"_

_Meredith opened her eyes at the commotion and caught sight of something malformed and twisted – a child, but not a child, with long pointed ears, huge eyes, and…it couldn't be…fangs…_

_With a crash the memories came back – the long nights in the lab that had ended with a chemical spilled all over her – Thomas's brutal rape – and the subsequent violation of the bats – and it had come out of HER from HER body and she felt its taint spread like a disease over her body, so that she shrieked hysterically, clawing at the bed –_

"_KILL IT! KILL IT! KILL IT!"_

_

* * *

_

_Kill it…_

There was a long, dead silence afterwards.

"You wanted me to die," Edgar said flatly. "You're my mother and you wanted me to die."

Meredith whispered, "Oh Edgar, I'm so sorry, but-"

"It wasn't your fault," he said, smiling twistedly. "After all, who would want an ugly freak of nature for a child?"

Meredith tried to grab him, sobbing, "No Edgar, that's not what you are -"

"_Stay away from me!_" he roared.

Shelley cried his name and ran to him, wanting to comfort him the way she had before they knew any of this – and he screamed wildly and shoved her to the ground, before stumbling like a wounded animal out the door and into the streets.

_

* * *

_

_From 'The Ugly Duckling'…_

"_I will fly to those royal birds," he exclaimed, "and they will kill me, because I am so ugly, and dare to approach them; but it does not matter: better be killed by them than pecked by the ducks, beaten by the hens, pushed about by the maiden who feeds the poultry, or starved with hunger in the winter." Then he flew to the water, and swam towards the beautiful swans. The moment they espied the stranger, they rushed to meet him with outstretched wings. "Kill me," said the poor bird; and he bent his head down to the surface of the water, and awaited death. _

* * *

He ran, not caring where he went. Truthfully, he didn't even see his surroundings; he made decisions without thinking. He didn't want to think, for his thoughts were all gathered around one terrible fact.

He had loved Shelley from the first time he saw her. Strange that he should be so attracted to her already; as if he, the result of a forbidden chemical and a terrible rape, should continue making an abomination of nature. She had shown him little love, but that had only encouraged him. When she looked at him, he felt a rising joy in his chest; when she spoke to him, or laughed at something he did, he wanted to repeat the action, hoping for the same reaction.

She had given everything, and he repaid the only way he could – with endless devotion. Despite her jokes about some future Bat Girl, he knew she was the only one he wanted. And now, the only one he could never have.

He stopped and felt a terrible fury overcome him. It was because of Meredith (_your mother,_ an inner voice whispered, but he could not confront that yet) that he could not have Shelley – she had not told him about their relationship, she had let them love each other in their ignorance. She had abandoned him to be raised in a cage by a madman, she had given birth to him and demanded that he die, she had torn him and Shelley apart.

It was time to repay the favor.

He stood up, feeling the blood rage overcome his reason. He didn't care about morality, about the lessons she had taught him. He didn't care about acting human. What hope was there for a beast anyway? And she had _lied _to him – why should he believe, let alone _follow_, anything she said anymore? And when he was through with his mother, perhaps he could beg Shelley's forgiveness before turning himself into the mob. He deserved nothing but death. He wanted nothing but death.

He had unknowingly run to the large fields and pastures of the now-dead ranchers. He could smell the blood in them, and for once felt no qualms about falling upon them and ripping open their bodies. After all, he was merely fulfilling the accusations of killing the cows. As he clawed open the stomach of one unfortunate bovine, he laughed. This was what he was always good at: making a big, messy spectacle of himself. His owner had been right after all.

They found him there, his face and body completely scarlet, ripping out the intestines of one unfortunate calf.

"Kill it!" they shouted. "Destroy it!"

"Stop! Please stop!"

Meredith imposed herself in front of Edgar. Shelley followed, still silent.

"Please, don't kill my son!" she cried.

A gasp went over the crowd.

"Her _son_?"

She held up her hands. "It's a long story, but I beg you, hear me out before you attack him."

"Why should we?"

Harlan Ellis had pushed his way to the front; he was holding a pistol in his hand.

"This is a freak of nature. I would know – I raised him." He smiled when he saw the crowd nodding in agreement. "The thing is a beast, a monster. You can see for yourself – he is the one killing your cows!"

Meredith narrowed her eyes. She moved forward, conversely making Ellis take a step back.

She said, "I know you."

He was taken aback – and just a little frightened. "Excuse me?"

Her eyes, once slits, now widened. "I do know you…" Tears started to form. "Oh my God…no…Oh Thomas, how could you…?"

"What are you talking about?" he snarled. "You are deluded -"

"You didn't kill him," she whispered, "you took him, and you – you raised him-"

The crowd was clearly muttering.

"What is she talking about?"

Meredith rounded on them. "This man is not Harlan Ellis! He is Thomas Parker, my husband!"

A gasp went through the crowd, the sound seeming to tear through Shelley's mind.

It was unthinkable. The man who had brought so much hatred on her beloved Edgar was –

Her father.

"I worked for him at a lab," Meredith said. "We were developing a chemical that would increase breeding in cows. But one night he spilled it all over me – and he had mixed so many other animal hormones into it that it became much stronger – and much more universal. He couldn't help himself…but that night he...took me. Violated me." She stopped speaking, suppressing the cold shiver that still ran down her spine when he recalled that night.

Ellis suddenly turned away, from Meredith and the crowd, clenching his jaw.

"I ran, hoping to find my parents, but instead ran into bats – and they were everywhere...burrowing...biting..." She met her daughter's gaze, both thinking of the cave. "When I ran home, they followed me and killed my parents...and left me almost dead...

"Thomas found me later and cared for me. Later, he asked me to marry him. I wanted my child to have a father, so I agreed…but I knew I would never love him again." She hid her face as well. "It was the worst mistake…leading a man on like that…well, my worst mistake at the time…"

And she told the rest, the birth of both Shelley and Edgar, her screams, and the last she remembered of baby Edgar – the newborn in Thomas's arms as Thomas ran out the hospital, intending to kill it.

"But as soon as I started to take care of Shelley," Meredith said, "I knew I had made a mistake. It was a child – and I ached inside to take care of it. But then Thomas came back without it, and I knew it was over. I had not killed my son, not directly, but his death was as much my fault as it was Thomas's. More so."

She took a breath, facing them all. "I knew I couldn't deceive anybody anymore. I told Thomas that I was leaving him, and taking Shelley with me. He was furious...for so long... but finally he let me go, and I stayed in another town for some weeks. When I came back to finalize everything, Thomas was gone. The house was empty...he left it for me, and his job too, but he had disappeared... So I stayed here, raised my daughter, and tried to make up for the terrible things I had done." She looked at Edgar, the agonized lines on her face softening. "And then I found him again – Edgar, my son, and I thought that now, I could finally have my family together again."

She stopped. Her part was finished. But then she faced Ellis – Thomas Parker – and whispered, "But you didn't kill Edgar. You imprisoned him – you hurt him. Thomas, please – what happened to you?"

Thomas's face suddenly darkened, and his next words were ripped from the very depths of his soul. "Yes, I did all that! I took him into the forest and I was going to kill him – but I couldn't." He dropped his hands limply to his side. "He was my creation – I couldn't just destroy it. So I left it in the woods…and the bats carried him away…

"But then I came home, hoping that you could see the depth of my love for you – and you told me, instead, that you were leaving me…And when you were gone I went into the woods and found the boy amongst the bats, and I took him back, intending to really kill it – because it was this thing's fault that I had lost everything…

"Yet I couldn't, still. It was a child. I decided to raise it, because it was your son. I didn't care about its appearance, because…" And now he looked at Meredith pleadingly. "It had your eyes, Meredith…every day I would look at him, and I couldn't kill him…

"But he was a constant reminder of my…my failures. And when I found out what he needed to eat…it disgusted me. He was a wild animal. I had to keep him locked up so that he wouldn't attack anything…and when money ran low, I exhibited him to people instead…until one day he escaped.

"I had hoped that I would just create a small group of people to help me hunt him down…but then I found out he was with you…" The look he shot Edgar was pure jealousy. "…and that you loved him – more than you ever loved me. That you loved him even though he was a constant reminder of everything you went through…but you didn't...love..._me_.

"I wanted him to die. So I killed others, and placed the blame on him." He glared at the townspeople. "And all of you fell for it. Like sheep. Or _cattle_."

He turned back to Meredith, leveling his gaze at her. "_That _is my side of the story, Meredith."

A silence fell over the crowd.

Shelley walked numbly over to Edgar – her friend, her lover, her brother – and kneeled down into the grass, wet with dew and other things she didn't want to know about. She put a hand on his shoulder.

He pulled away and stumbled to his feet. The mob – no longer a mob, simply a town in shock – parted slightly as he walked, past Meredith, to Thomas Parker.

"Edgar," Meredith said, catching his arm. "Please, we can still be a family…"

How could they be a family? The man who had caged him for his entire life was the closest he had to having a father. His adoptive mother was his _real_ mother. And the only person he could ever love was his sister. He was a freak, a murderer. He had brought an entire town into a mob, killed men, women, children…

"You were right to demand my death," he told Meredith brokenly. "You should have left me in the cage. It would have been better for me. No…It would have been better for you all if I had died."

"No Edgar that isn't true -"

"It is," he insisted numbly. He was gripping his own body, bending over as if to stand up and look at them all would cause too much pain. "It wasn't a crime...to wish for my death. Your only crime was in rescuing me and telling me that I was human."

Meredith cried, "Edgar you are human! You are not a beast – you can talk and think and -"

"Does it matter when I can't control myself when confronted with blood?" he snarled, finally straightening up.

"You have a soul -"

"My soul is gone! You took it from me when you took Shelley!"

"Edgar, please!"

"What is he saying?" Thomas exclaimed. "Meredith, what -"

"Edgar, don't!" Shelley cried.

"Oh yes!" And Edgar turned to Dr. Parker, expression insanely gleeful. "You haven't heard the news, have you? Well, why don't I tell you?"

Meredith shrieked, "Edgar!"

"My _dear_ mother forgot to tell me that her daughter was also my sister"

"Thomas-"

"So she took me in, and Shelley and I went naively about, falling in love and deciding to get married!" He was yelling all this, like some horrible caricature of his former self.

Thomas shook his head, mumbled stiffly, "No…"

"Do you know what she did?" Edgar screamed, his voice starting to crack. "She came after me. She offered me her love…her blood…everything!"

Dr. Parker shook his head, "No, you didn't -"

Edgar was losing it; he was shouting to his former captor. "Do you know what else I did? I _took her! _I used her body the same way you used Meredith! And then I sucked her blood!"

"Shut up!"

Edgar was sobbing, but still he yelled, "And when I had drained her dry, I asked her to marry me! I nearly killed her, and I asked her to marry me – and she said -"

"STOP!" Thomas lunged at Edgar, shoving the pistol to Edgar's chest –

Both Meredith and Shelley screamed "NO!" But it was Shelley who ran, who made it to them first, who ran in front of Edgar and grabbed at the gun, pushing it away from Edgar –

A blast went off that echoed all around the hills.

Everybody stared. Nobody moved.

Dr. Parker stared at his gun, at where he had aimed.

Meredith stumbled to Edgar, murmuring, "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head.

Shelley said, "Oh…"

All three looked at her. She was staring at her stomach, holding it tentatively. She seemed puzzled. When she pulled her hand away it was coated with blood.

No…no no no no…

"Oh," she said again. Then she collapsed.

Edgar fell to her side, his legs suddenly unable to hold him up. He crawled to her, grasped her hand, her face, hauled her quivering body into his lap and cradled her.

"Shelley…" It was a helpless moan. "No…please…no…"

"Edgar…I feel so cold…" The blood seemed to be draining from her, leaving her cheeks, her lips, pale. She clutched at his hand but it was so weak… "Edgar, am I dying?"

"No, no, you are not," he mumbled, holding her tighter. "You're not dying, you can't die! I won't let you die!" His words were choking sobs.

"I think I am," she said, sounding remarkably calm. "At least…it's not you…" She pulled at his hand. "Hold me… and I'll be fine…please, Edgar, hold me…"

"I am," and he was grabbing at her, as if his very grip might keep her alive. "Please Shelley…" He put a hand to her stomach and it came away with her blood – and strangely enough, he felt no hunger, the overwhelming grief in his mind was blocking off all other feelings…

She closed her eyes and her hand went limp in his.

For a long moment he held her, rocking her very slowly, squeezing her hand, stroking her face and hair. And slowly it sank in. Shelley had died, had died in his arms, had died trying to save him from his own attempt to die…A choking feeling rose in his throat, a heavy, sick guilt clawing at his chest…

Shelley couldn't have died because of him…

But she had, she had…oh God, she had…

His surroundings seemed to mist over, until all he could see was Shelley's body and Thomas Parker – and then not even Shelley registered.

He forced himself back to his feet and staggered towards Thomas Parker. Their eyes met, mutual understanding passing between them. The man raised his gun heavily, resigned to his fate, and as Edgar fell upon him, fangs sinking into his neck, he pulled the trigger.

He didn't even register the little shove the bullet seemed to push through his side, or the slowly growing pain, not until he was done feeding. By then, it was too late; he couldn't even stand. But he crawled his way to Shelley, lying in her mother's arms, because he wanted to die by her side.

His vision was swimming; the corners were fading, blacking out. He felt for her hand and found it, but both his grip and sight were leaving him…and his last hope was that Meredith would be right, that he did indeed possess a soul and that he might join Shelley in Heaven…

And then he closed his eyes and was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

Damn, this turned out long.

**CHAPTER 18**

Meredith saw but did not see. She heard the gunshot but did not let it register in her mind. It wasn't until she saw Shelley falling into Edgar's arms that she realized that her daughter had been shot by her own father.

She took Shelley from Edgar, but noticed too late where Edgar was going. She could only watch, unable to even scream, as Edgar killed Thomas and was shot in turn, falling next to her.

He grabbed at Shelley's hands, not even noticing her. The wild glint in his eyes was fading rapidly as his blood soaked the grass. He lay on his side, no longer moving, and the desperation that had marked his last moments finally left him as he held Shelley.

Oh no…

Meredith was wracked with indecision – there were three people dying in front of her, three that she cared for or had cared for – and she felt paralyzed. Shelley, Edgar, or Thomas, her mind seemed to say: who do you love best?

She chose – Shelley. God forgive her, for abandoning her son and husband for her daughter. But God didn't seem to be here.

She lifted her head to stare at the gaping crowd and cried, "Call the hospital!"

Clem gulped. "What -"

"You did this!" she shrieked. "Now fix it! Call the damn hospital!"

The people scurried into action while she held her daughter. She had treated animals with gunshot wounds, but never humans – and never her children. Her hands shook as she tore off Shelley's sweater and ripped it to long shreds. Suppose she made a mistake? The consequences were too horrible to think about – yet they flashed through her head nevertheless, images of a life with her children's deaths at her hands…

_No! Concentrate! _She took a great, calming gulp of air and started to apply pressure to the wound. Shelley may be lucky – nobody had known where the bullet had gone, but it looked to be Shelley's side, and surely it might have missed internal organs –

She could only hope. Wrapping the strips around Shelley's waist she turned the girl to her side and rushed to Edgar, knowing at once that he was worse off – immediately her mind seemed to berate her: why not go to him first? He is your child as well.

Had she abandoned her son for the second time?

_No, no, no_, part of her cried. She moved the boy as little as possible, checked the wound and knew that Thomas's aim had been true – and certainly there had seemed to be a spark of a plan flashing between the two as Shelley lay in his arms.

She looked up as the ambulance pulled up and started to pull the three onto their stretchers. She hadn't even reached Thomas. She had not abandoned Edgar this time – it was Thomas she had left behind. And she recalled the love and adoration he had held even while she subconsciously rejected it – surely he had suspected… He had loved her then, and he had loved her – twistedly, psychotically, he had loved her, had done everything out of this terrifyingly one-sided devotion – and she had not realized it until now.

They pulled Edgar from her and as they gently led her in as well, she finally started to cry, for all the lives she had ruined.

* * *

"_Pop, pop," sounded in the air, and the two wild geese fell dead among the rushes, and the water was tinged with blood. "Pop, pop," echoed far and wide in the distance_

_The Ugly Duckling_

* * *

The hospital was very quiet now. For a while there had been police and nurses and a sole doctor running about everywhere. Meredith, sitting alone on a hospital chair, had caught hints of the conversation –testing the blood of the Taylor family – a missing rancher – confirmation of Thomas Parker's part in the murder scheme, and so on. Normally she would have been interested, vindicated, by the new information they turned up only now, but she could only sit numbly, waiting for the news of her husband and children.

Sheriff Reynolds sat down, looking at her pale, expressionless face worriedly. He touched her arm hesitantly and said her name.

She turned her head slightly to indicate her interest.

"I heard the doctors talking," he told her. "I guess they should tell you…"

"What is it?" she asked tiredly, bracing herself for the news.

"Ellis – I mean, Thomas Parker – died. He was dead on arrival, actually, and they couldn't revive him. I'm…sorry, Meredith."

She sighed. She had expected that. She felt a desolate grief sweep over her. She had learned, far too late, just how much the man had loved her. And now she could never return the feelings. She had not killed the man intentionally, but she held the greatest amount of guilt.

"We found Ned up in one of the caves," the sheriff continued quietly. "It looks like he was bitten and died of blood loss. We found some other blood too, around the cave, which we think might be your daughter's as well."

Meredith nodded.

He asked softly, "Do you have any idea what happened while they were missing?"

Meredith didn't answer for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "Shelley and Edgar ran to the cave," she said dully. "They were in love…"

"I knew that, Meredith."

She inclined her head towards him. "You knew?"

"You were probably the only one who didn't know."

It was true. She had not seen the signs, because she had never even contemplated the possibility. She nodded slowly and continued. "Then they may have…consummated their relationship." She sighed. "Shelley offered him her blood to drink… And I think Ned might have come upon them and threatened them… and Edgar…"

She stopped. The sheriff murmured, "He would have killed for her…"

"Yes…and I believe he did that night."

Both were silent.

"Will you have him arrested, Sheriff?" she asked.

He said, after a moment, "I am not a cruel man, Meredith…the boy has suffered…and the town need not know about the true circumstances of the last few nights…"

She nodded, a little of the worry lifting from her shoulders. "I will leave as soon as my children are well, Sheriff Reynolds."

He said uncomfortably, "Now Meredith, there's no need -"

She put up a weary hand. "We've done enough. And I think all of us could do with a change."

* * *

Perhaps the most horrible moment of Edgar's short life came when he woke up and realized he was not dead.

It was a slow, gradually increasing, steady, dull pain in him. The sedatives and medicines issued to him made his quick brain sluggish; he blinked, tried to focus, to remember, and couldn't.

After many moments it came back. And it came back in the same order they occurred – and he relived the love, the happiness, and the devastating betrayal and shocking, numbing grief, all over again.

A moan. He wondered if he had made that pitiful noise.

He wondered if he could rip out the tubes feeding him, or jump out the hospital window. But he was weak, too weak to even lift his hand. He wondered if he would starve to death – surely the IVs weren't feeding him _properly_ – but then he realized Meredith must have provided special instructions to the doctor, for flowing through the lines was fresh, _healing_ blood.

There was a brief, futile struggle. The blanket itself was too heavy, suffocating him…

He _hated_ being confined. He hated the helpless feeling of being trapped, of being unable to move.

He was gasping, panting loudly when he heard soft steps next to him.

"Edgar?"

No…no…

Shelley…

"Edgar, you're awake…"

She was stroking his forehead, and he wanted to scramble away from her touch, to lash out, to bite her and force her to stop –

No. He didn't want to bite. He didn't ever want to bite _her_.

"Shh…it's okay…we're all okay, Edgar…"

Why wasn't he dead? Why was she so damn _caring_? Why was she acting like this?

Like she still loved him?

She kissed him – a chaste kiss, on his head. He whimpered. It seemed to burn.

"I was so worried…I thought you were going to die…"

_She _thought _he_ was _going_ to die? He had thought _she was_ dead. For a moment the clawing grief threatened to rip its way out of its chest, no matter that she stood before him.

Was it a dream? Some hellish happy ending as punishment for his crimes?

Still she held him. "Go back to sleep, Edgar. You need to rest."

He closed his eyes and heard her move away. He wished she hadn't told him anything. Now there was only guilt and sickening shame for what he had done.

He was in love. He was _still_ in love. He was in love with his own sister.

And he couldn't stop.

And neither could she.

Without meaning to, he remembered her smile – how they had been so rare at first, especially when directed at him, and then more frequent – open, adoring, beautiful. Her spinning about in a new dress for the dance that he could never participate in, arms wide and eyes far away in her own world. Her hair – he had made fun of her hair – her forgiving, accepting, naively innocent personality –

No matter what, it wasn't Shelley's fault. _He_ had pursued her – from the moment he saw her he had wanted her. He had been damned – he had been cursed from birth with a deformity in body and face that only matched the sins within. An animal.

If she wouldn't give him up, he would. Though it would wound him more than anything he had ever done before, he would leave her – find a way to escape and then die somewhere, alone and unloved, the way he should have died, the way his mother had demanded he die when she had first laid eyes on him.

* * *

There was a small crowd outside the hospital when Edgar and Shelley were released, nominally to provide support for the family and their public tragedy, but mostly because the people wanted to catch a glimpse of the infamous Bat Boy.

Meredith led the way, holding both her son and daughter's hands, the two on either side of her. There was a marked difference in the both of them: Shelley had regained her color and spirit and was staring boldly out at the crowd, as if daring them to make a nasty comment; Edgar was still sickly and withdrawn and seemed unable to look at anybody. But especially not at Shelley. Several times she made an attempt to catch his eye, and each time he looked pointedly in another direction. When they got in the car he slid as far as possible from her.

The small crowd moved from the entrance of the hospital towards the back of the car, trying to catch one last bit of the family that had caused so much trouble. But Meredith started up the car and sped away into the distance. Neither of the passengers looked back.

Their new house was situated on the edge of the quite town, far enough from prying eyes, but not so far that they couldn't drive in for groceries, clothing, and such.

It was smaller than their old house, a bit run-down, but close to a large forest. Meredith had already applied for a job as town veterinarian; Shelley had been enrolled at the last moment in the public school (which had almost as small a population as her old school), and Edgar was effectively sequestered in his room. If it weren't for the scars and the painful memories, Shelley would not have noticed a change at all.

She should have been happy. They had left the bigoted little town of Hope Falls intact, save for Thomas Parker; and while Shelley was saddened that her father was dead, she had not known the man for most of her life. And the days she had, he had been under the guise of a psychotic murderer ruthlessly working against Edgar.

Edgar…Edgar was the reason she remained despondent. She had thought that, even if a romantic relationship was impossible, they would retain their former companionship. Yet Edgar seemed to have formed an invisible barrier around himself, repelling both her and Meredith's attempts at comfort.

And she didn't want just a friendship…as sickening, as disgusting as it was to admit it, she wanted their love back. Every fiber of her body rebelled against the thought, all of her morals screaming that it was perverse, but at night she ached for his tentative touch and the feel of him lying next to her.

But how could she even initiate it when he wouldn't talk to her? When he avoided her as if she had a deadly disease? They lived in the same house, yet whenever she was inside, he was out in the forest; when she went to the forest to search for him he would creep back inside and lock himself inside his room.

"He just needs some time," Meredith said, setting a bowl inside the rusty old fridge. "All of us have gone through some… difficult things."

"I went through it, too, Mom!" Shelley cried, as if her mother needed reminding. "I don't mope around in my room all day -"

"He doesn't _mope_, Shelley."

"Yes he does!"

Meredith put down her dish. "Shelley, I'm not sure you understand the depth of his grief."

Her daughter halted mid-rant. "Grief?"

It took Meredith a great effort to say, "He loved you… as more than a sister. And to find out the truth… you didn't see his face, did you?"

Shelley shook her head.

"It destroyed him… killed all love and hope and faith in him."

He had killed for her, Shelley thought. He had told her, quite calmly, that he would do it again if anyone should threaten her. At the time she had been too shell-shocked to register the depth of his feelings – had, in fact, thought it an empty promise. What had he seen in her, she wondered, a spoiled, selfish, immature teenage girl, which made him love her so much?

She asked her mother that, but Meredith merely shrugged and repeated the old adage, "Love is blind."

"Maybe he should see someone."

Meredith replied bitterly, "Who Shelley? Who would see him as a person? Doctors, psychologists, scientists – they wouldn't see a human being – they'd see something to examine, to cut up and dissect. At least the mob saw him as something dangerous. Scientists wouldn't even give him that. He'd be just a specimen to them."

"Fine. So we let him stay in his room and act like a big baby."

"Well, talk to him Shelley, if you're so angry!"

"I _can't_! He's avoiding me! When I'm inside the house, he's out! When I go out, he comes back in!"

"Then follow him until he stops!"

"He just locks himself in his room then!"

"For God's sake, Shelley, then _sit_ outside his room and shout to him! He can't just ignore you then!"

"He could if he plugged his ears!"

"Well then I can't help you anymore Shelley!"

"Fine!"

"FINE!"

Shelley left the table, slamming her chair in place, and went to her room, trying to place herself in Edgar's mind. She closed her eyes and settled herself quietly into her mind. And she thought.

She thought about what he was like when they had first pulled him from a cage at a carnival and introduced him to the wide world. He had been a scared, feral child then. Unbidden, the memory of their first greeting crossed her mind. Had he liked her then already?

He had said her name first. Only now did she realize that it may not have been a coincidence. She felt a twist of guilt for her ignorance, but quickly moved on. She remembered him learning to walk and talk, to read and write, and to act like a proper boy. Yet at the time she had still thought him a child – his entering her room after a nightmare had confirmed that. And, she thought, he hadn't suffered many more nightmares after.

It had been her room he had always gone to. Never Meredith's. And despite his glib explanation, she no longer thought it had been about the proximity of his room to hers.

She tried to skip over the most shameful part of her time with him, but she couldn't help thinking about his abject begging for forgiveness, even though he had done nothing wrong. That, she thought, was the moment when he started to mature in her eyes, becoming less a child and more a friend, a boy she could like.

And then, despite all the obstacles in their path, they had grown to like each other. She had been so oblivious to his feelings… until two incidents – his attempt to fit in at school, and his attack on Ron Taylor. And suddenly, she saw how others saw him, how he saw himself – and she had wanted to help him. She could not watch the town, and he himself, treat him like an animal. She had gone to comfort him...and something else had happened. She fell in love. But she hadn't thought much of it. Half of her thought it was the perfect love, one that would go on forever like a summer dream; the cynical part told her that it was nothing more than a teenage fling, to be discarded in a few months with none too worse for wear. But it had not been that at all...

When she was closest to losing him, after the disastrous town meeting, that she would run after him. And then, she had helped him the only way she could – by proving that there was someone who saw him as a human being, by offering her love, her body, her blood. But the last…she had fallen into a feverish haze after. The first thing she saw, though, was the self-loathing in his eyes, because he had hurt her. She wondered how much guilt and shame he still retained. Enough, apparently, to vow utter devotion, even murder, when she continued to stay by him.

And finally, the devastating truth. Now, she thought, she was no longer surprised that he went on his destructive rampage. Unable to fit in with the world, Shelley had effectively become his only lifeline, his only chance at normality, at redemption for what he saw as his animal side – and then even that had been denied him. There had been a suicidal undertone to his rage – he had wanted to kill, but only so that the people could end his misery. And she had foolishly run about and tried to save him by giving up her own life. She remembered not being surprised to wake up and find him in a hospital bed next to her in critical condition. Subconsciously, she had known he would not want to live without her.

She sat up suddenly. Denied acceptance, love, and even death. What kind of world was Edgar living in?

Armed with her new understanding, she came down the next morning prepared to talk it all over.

* * *

Edgar was cleverer than she gave him credit for. He got up early to eat just so he could avoid her at the table; he spent most of the day out in the woods, doing God-knows-what, and only came back in the evening. They didn't even have dinner together: he would grab his food and run to his room.

So talking to him…was difficult.

She woke up early that morning and waited at the table for him to come down. When she heard his footsteps she turned and waited.

"Morning, Edgar," Meredith said cheerily, putting his bowl down.

Edgar looked at Shelley and froze.

She gave him a nervous smile. "Edgar…"

He flinched back, backing away like a cornered animal, then fled the room.

She sat there, blinking. Meredith sighed.

He came back down later. Meredith forced the blood to him – he still looked weak and was easily fatigued, though he tried to hide it – and he forced it down before running outside.

He fled the house for the woods, his only refuge, and collapsed at the edge. He dug out a hole, pawing at the dirt until it was large enough. Crouching over it, he vomited up the blood before falling to his side, curling into a ball.

It hurt to think. It hurt to remember. It hurt to do anything other than live. He lived out his days in numbness, wondering why he hadn't died yet.

His ears flicked to the side instinctively at the sound of footsteps. He turned and saw Shelley running down the slope at him. An ache seemed to grow within him at the sight of her. She was wearing only a light T-shirt, and he could see a pale scar along her wrist. It matched the ones running down his arms, he thought harshly, though hers were nowhere near as extensive.

"Edgar!" She stopped at his side, looking put off. And she should, he thought savagely. He was not going to let her come close to him. He was dead inside.

"What do you want?" he asked rudely.

She paused, eyes rather big. "I…wanted to talk to you…" she murmured, eyes flicking over him, reminding him uncomfortably of _their_ mother. He wondered what he looked like to her.

"You look sick," she said. It wasn't mean, or accusing; it was merely a statement.

Yet he lashed out, "So? So what? Leave me alone!"

She flinched back at his anger, stepping away. Her heel almost fell into a hole. She stared at it. There was a dark red substance at the bottom that looked rather familiar.

"Is that…" She kneeled down and sniffed it. "…blood?"

He didn't answer.

She faced him angrily. "Have you been throwing up your blood?" It was almost a shriek.

He remained silent.

"Edgar, let me talk to you!"

He shrugged, face like stone. She felt powerless all of a sudden. There had been a time when Edgar jumped in fear whenever she so much as raised her voice. But that, she realized, had been the dirty, frightened, abused Edgar. This was a cold, hard Edgar, one she didn't know and didn't like.

"Don't let me stop you," he said.

"I…" He was so expressionless… "Edgar, I just wanted to talk about…everything that happened…"

"Go on ahead."

"I mean… it was terrible, finding out everything…"

He felt the jolt inside, but he showed nothing.

"But I was hoping we could… I don't know…"

He crossed his arms and said nothing.

She exploded.

"God_damn_ it, answer me! Don't _stand there_ like a stupid _statue_ or something!" she shrieked in his face, and was sure she saw a flicker of fear. "All you do is _ignore_ _me_ and I am _tired_ of it! Either tell me how you feel or I will slap you again,_ I_ _swear to God I will_!"

He stepped back just a bit from the girl. He wanted to beg for forgiveness, to wrap his arms around her and promise never to leave her. But he couldn't. He was her brother. Her twin brother. He could not have her, no matter how badly he wanted her. It was his punishment, he knew – for being a freak, a murderer, for wrecking an entire town, he would live with this unquenchable, undying love for the one person he could never have, for the rest of his life.

"Shelley," he said, working to appear calm. "I will talk to you." He hoped his voice would not shake while doing this. "It's time you moved on."

She looked close to crumpling on him. "What?"

"I think…" He forced away the gnawing guilt. "Just forget me. Live your life. Find somebody else."

"Why?" she asked, nearing tears. Didn't he know by now that all she wanted was him?

"I don't want to be with you, Shelley," he bit out, turning away. "Go away. Go home."

He waited. Then he felt her fist connect with the back of his head.

"OW!"

She was livid. "You're doing it again!"

"Doing _what_?"

"Being a martyr, that's what! You're running off trying to get me to leave you because you think you're bad for me! Well it's not going to work on me, idiot!"

"You are – that is – completely -" Great, now he was stuttering.

"I. Like – no, LOVE. You," she said, very in his face now. "And nothing – _nothing_ – is ever going to change that." Then she grabbed him and kissed him.

He struggled and shoved her away, now looking panicked. "Shelley, I don't -"

"Yes you do!" She tried to hold him but he threw himself back, looking wildly for an escape.

"I can't -"

"Yes, you can!"

"I mustn't -"

"You will!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" he screamed at her. He backed into the trees, face frantic.

"Edgar -"

"GO AWAY! GET AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

She reached for him and she snapped back, twisting from her hands. For a moment they both froze, his terrified gaze boring into hers. Then he broke the moment, running into the woods without a backward glance.

Shelley stood there for another moment, unable to believe the change in events. Then,

"HEY! GET BACK HERE! I'M NOT DONE TALKING TO YOU!"

She dashed after him.

"EDGAR! YOU STOP RIGHT NOW AND-"

She smashed into him, was going to start screaming at him once more, then stopped when she saw the look in his eyes. He looked like a wild animal once more – frightened, looking for an escape, unable to even look her in the eyes.

She softened her tone and reached for him, gratified when he didn't pull away.

"Edgar….talk to me," she whispered. She moved until they were face to face. "Do you still love me?"

"Shelley -"

"Just tell me the truth."

"Don't -"

"Do you love me?"

"Please -"

"_Do you love me?_"

"Yes!" He grabbed her shoulders, on the verge of shaking her. "YES, I LOVE YOU! Only you!"

"Oh, thank God" was all Shelley said, before pulling him into a kiss.

He struggled away, and this time there was no shock, but utter betrayal.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"I thought – you love -"

"Yes, I love you!" he snarled. "That doesn't mean we act on it!"

Her entire body seemed to shrink before him; he had never seen her so defeated.

"So…nothing?" she asked, voice pleading.

He swallowed, turned away. "Please, Shelley, this isn't your fault. Just let me go."

"Let you go?" The fire came back. "I'm not letting you go _anywhere_! You're staying here with me and Mom!"

"This is my fault," he mumbled, turning away. "I should leave…"

"Hell no." She grabbed his arm and dragged him back. After an initial, if brief fight, she spun him about. "Look Edgar…" He was, in fact, staring at the ground. She forced his face up. "Look at me! Edgar, _why the hell_ do you keep blaming yourself? For everything, too! Some things are _not – your – fault_!"

"This feels like it," he muttered, echoing another incident.

She sighed, taking his hand. "I fell in love with you – and I still love you."

He turned away.

"Edgar…at least talk to me. Don't avoid me. We'll work this out, okay?"

He remained silent for a long time. Only when she hugged him – gently, without passion, the way a sister ought to – did he nod.

* * *

This felt a bit off at the end. Last chapter coming up soon, guys.

Some things: there's a poll up on my profile, if you want to check it out. Also there is my new Formspring, so if you have any love letters or hate mail to send me, go there.

And one last thing: I've been working on a new Bat Boy story. It's multi-chapter, another AU, is sort of similar to Thunderclouds but also wildly different in other ways. I'm not too confident about it or anything, plus it's not finished (eep) but if you guys really ADORE my stories or writing or whatever (snort), tell me and I might put it up.


	19. Chapter 19

I move into my dorm tomorrow, so I thought it would be fitting to put up the last two chapters !

I'm so glad to be finally done with this. This was the first multi-chapter fic I ever completed, so think of this as kind of a milestone for me. :)

Anyway, the next chapter is a bunch of deleted scenes, for those who might be interested, and not a continuation of what follows. And finally, if you've been following this story all this time and have not left a review, please do leave one - praise, concrit, flames, I'll accept all of them.

Thank you all so much! And enjoy!

**CHAPTER 19**

They lived in a kind of peace then. At least Edgar spoke to her, stopped avoiding her like she was some kind of leper. Sometimes it was awkward, full of the memories of their one night together; other times, Shelley felt like she had the old, friendly Edgar back, the one who could laugh with her and ask her thoughtful questions and show occasional bursts of wit.

Once in a while she would inquire quietly about their relationship. It wasn't brother-sister, a relationship they had found only recently. Nor was it quite friendship, as the moments of tense silence testified. No, the closest Shelley could think of was…something like two friends who had been dating, then broke up while resolving to keep the friendship together. Which was what their relationship was, actually. Still…Shelley was just glad he had stopped running into the woods all the time.

They talked most of the time; it was the beginning of summer and Shelley was preparing for her last year of school. Edgar was attempting to pass an equivalency exam through online courses (leading Shelley to tease that, despite the fact he was two minutes younger than her, he had somehow jumped a grade ahead of her). Once in a while, Shelley would hold his hand, or kiss him on the cheek, and feel oddly pleased when he accepted it without comment.

A few nights later she heard him enter her room as she tried to fall asleep. He stood over her and probably would have continued doing so all night, except that she looked up at him and asked, "Do you want to lie down?"

After a moment of hesitant silence, he nodded. She opened up the covers and he crawled in, lying right at the edge of the bed. Sighing, Shelley pulled him in, wrapping an arm around his chest. After an initial stiffening of his entire body, he loosened up and allowed her to curl closer.

Weeks passed. The two stayed there, in a limbo between friendship and love. Shelley wanted more, and she was sure that, deep inside, Edgar wanted it as well. But for now, they weren't. And Shelley didn't push it. They had plenty of time.

Meredith couldn't help noticing the improvement in Edgar and Shelley's mood over the next few days. She hoped that it was because Edgar had recovered from his ordeal, that Shelley and he had settled for a sibling friendship. But she found this unlikely, especially knowing her daughter. The girl was a stubborn one, and could be quite the hopeless romantic at times. But Meredith did not know how far it had gone.

But Edgar, in particular, looked happy. More happy than she had seen him these past few days. She struggled with herself – what her children had done was disgusting, abominable. But what had happened when she had first forced the two forbidden lovers apart still gave her nightmares.

More days went by. The days became cooler. Shelley and Meredith started preparing for her last year of school. Edgar continued his studies.

Shelley wasn't sure what her mother knew anymore. Her mother, who had seemed so familiar, had hidden secrets for years, secrets that nearly destroyed them. Her mother, Shelley realized, was more of an enigma than she had ever thought, one who guarded herself closely. So often Shelley wanted to ask for more of what had happened that night, how she could have lived with a man she didn't love, and most of all, how she could have tried to abandon a boy as beautiful and warm and intelligent as Edgar.

She had tried.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Shelley dear?"

"Mom...do you...feel bad about not keeping Edgar?"

Her mother had put down her ironing and shaken her head. "I can't feel regret now, Shelley," she had said to her daughter. "Regret...is bad at times. You live your life wishing things had been different and that you could...step into a time machine and change it...but you can't. You can't."

Shelley hadn't asked after that. It didn't feel like an answer to her question...more like a look into her mother's mind.

Sometimes, Shelley would wonder what would have happened if Meredith had decided to keep Edgar. Perhaps their father might have remained, instead of becoming a homicidal psychopath. Or would he? She wasn't sure. She hadn't known her father at all, and even after hearing his story, she still couldn't fathom his motivations. She would never see him except as the man who incited a town into a lynch mob and as a killer of innocent men and children.

But she and Edgar... She and Edgar would have grown up together…played together, fought together, and never loved each other in any way other than a sibling relationship. Edgar would be lying in his room, free of nightmares, perhaps even with accepted, with a girlfriend, back in Hope Falls. She might be with Rick Taylor, hiding from Meredith…Edgar would have been a normal, thick-headed, sexually hormonal boy. She wanted to laugh at the image; it was so unlike the Edgar she knew.

They would argue and fight, the way siblings should. Probably she would yell a lot, maybe even slap Edgar more...but he would probably laugh it off. He wouldn't jump at her every word, beam when she offered praise...

Shelley curled in closer to him, closing her eyes. What was done was done. Her mother had been trying to tell her, and Edgar, something when she answered Shelley's question. They could not change the past, but only reflect and learn from it.

She told Edgar this. He looked down at her. She realized she had been idly stroking the scars on his chest and back.

"Meredith - Mother said that?"

"Yeah." She sat up. "Edgar...we have another chance here, don't we? We - you - can't spend it looking back on all the things you did, or did not do."

He closed his eyes. After a moment, he whispered, "I can't...forget it."

"Forget what?"

"All of it...the cage...the abuse..." A shudder ran through him; Shelley hugged him tightly, wishing she could banish the memories with her comfort. "And the blood...the people who died because of me... and you...you..."

"But I'm still here," she assured him. "You didn't kill anybody...and those people...they would have been fine if not for...my father."

Another shiver from Edgar. But he murmured, "He _was_ your father." It was said in a tone of such wonder that Shelley thought he might not have realized it. He continued, "But he made you...so... there must have been some good in him...if he had you..."

She looked up at him, waiting for him to finish.

"Do you think..." he glanced back at her, "there might be good...in me? If there's good in him?"

"I think that...you're good through and through, Edgar."

"Really? Even if I drink blood...and hurt people?"

"Yes." She kissed him on the cheek. He accepted it. There was a tension hanging around him as he waited for more, not sure if he would accept any overt demonstration of love. But Shelley did not try to repeat her last kiss. For now, lying next to a breathing, talking, and very much alive Edgar, was enough.

They had all their lives to decide what to do, she thought. It was a very long time. They could not see into the future, or try to change the past. There was only the present, and their little family - Meredith, Shelley, and Edgar - would live it together, one day at a time.

When she felt a slight vibration in Edgar's chest, she realized he was humming.

"Edgar?" she whispered softly. "What is that?"

He paused. "Just singing to myself," he told her.

"Could you do it again?"

"Of course."

The crooning seemed to rock Shelley to sleep. There were no words, barely even a tune…yet it contained acceptance, freedom, even love: things once denied, now given freely, from the Bat Girl to her Bat Boy.

_

* * *

_

_But what did he see in the clear stream below? His own image; no longer a dark, gray bird, ugly and disagreeable to look at, but a graceful and beautiful swan._

_The Ugly Duckling_

The End


	20. Chapter 20

To the hopeful - no, this is not another chapter. These are some random scenes I wrote after putting up chapters, or stuff I cut out that was still buried in my old drafts. So...a little peek into my editing process.

**DELETED SCENES**

_Edgar's First Night_

_Some small scenes were thought up after reading LadyLore3's story, Retribution, which dealt with a lot of stuff I wish I had thought up. This was one of them._

He was scared to death.

The cage was a confining hell, a place where every day something might change – where he might be beaten one moment and ignored the next. But it had been _familiar_. It had been his home for as long as he could remember. He could pace it in his sleep; he could tell, with his eyes closed, where his food and water bowls were and where the opening was.

This horrible, brightly lit, _large_ space, though, was just frightening.

It was so big and open; he, used to tiny spaces and lack of movement, found that there was _too much_ freedom, _not enough _boundaries for him to navigate comfortably in. There were huge…things (furniture, though he did not know it) looming over him.

And the people. He was scared to death of the new people.

There had been a woman. She had been the one to drag him out of his home. She had taken him to yet another strange place, had washed him and forced into…he looked down at himself. These soft white things that covered him up. She had put strange smelling liquids on him, and wrapped up the places he had hurt. It had been nice. He had been taken care of. Very vaguely, he could remember, when he was very young, someone who had touched him and held him in a similar way. He found this treatment comforting. But he didn't know why…and that scared him.

The woman looked at him. He hissed at her; whenever anybody looked at him, he knew he was going to be hurt. It had always been better for him to be ignored, to be hidden.

She was taken aback, but didn't let him deter her. She crouched down. He stumbled backwards as she drew near, until he was backed into a corner, still spitting at her. She held out her hand and was shocked when he curled away, whimpering. When someone offered a hand, it had always brought pain. He waited for the lash.

It didn't come. The woman settled her hand on top of his head, and started to stroke him. Shocked, he didn't move for many seconds, waiting for her to slap him. Sometimes the man outside the cage would pet him, only to change his mind and hit him. He knew she would do this, was bracing himself for her…and the longer it took, the more the fear, the anticipation, seemed to grow, gnawing at his guts.

She withdrew, still looking at him. He raised his head just slightly, trying to look at her without making it obvious. She smiled at him. He drew further back, twisting his arms to his chest. Smiles were bad. When the man smiled, he was always preparing to do something particularly cruel. And yet…he peeked up again. The woman was still smiling, and was reaching for him again. He braced himself. Nothing. More petting, more soft touches to his head, his back.

This woman was different.

He recoiled from the thought. Nothing ever changed. When he thought things would turn out different, they never did. The man had pulled that trick on him. The man had enjoyed watching his hope die. But he knew hope just couldn't die. He would always wish that, just once, something might change.

Perhaps it would this time.

He moaned. He couldn't think that way.

He was hungry. He hadn't been fed at all. There wasn't only fear in him – there was the constant hunger. He wanted food so badly.

The woman moved away. He hoped – there it was again – that she would go and leave him alone.

No. She was back. He shivered. Things never turned out the way he hoped.

She pushed something towards him. Slowly he looked up. He could smell it. It smelled good.

He stared at her again. She was too close, watching him too eagerly. The man would always do that. Offer him something, wait for him to come, as he always would, then snatch it away. He wasn't falling for it from her, though.

She sighed and walked away into another room. Disbelievingly, he watched her go. This had never happened.

This woman was different.

Hesitantly he went to the bowl. It was blood. He resisted no longer, gulping it down until it was all gone and his stomach ached with the unexpected feeling of fullness.

The woman came back and he threw himself back into the corner, watching her with the intensity of a cornered animal for her reaction. But she merely smiled, said a few soft words – and he had never heard anyone talk to him that way before – picked up the bowl, and left.

He sighed, curling back in his corner. The woman went upstairs. He watched her go. The lights were out all over the house now. The darkness felt good. It was familiar.

Vaguely, before going to sleep, he wondered what had happened to the girl he had been introduced to before. He wondered if she was different too.

_

* * *

_

_Edgar, Meet Bed_

_This was another written after Retribution. It also shows some of the effects an abused Bat Boy might have to deal with.  
_

He had finally learned to trust them. He had stopped cowering when they came close, had stopped flinching whenever they raised a hand or spoke to him.

Now Shelley watched as her mother cupped the boy's head and half led, half pulled Edgar up the stairs, catching him when he stumbled, grabbing his arm when he tripped over his own limbs and almost went tumbling back down. To her, it was a familiar part of life; to him, it was an insurmountable crest.

They finally reached the top. Edgar followed Meredith, stopping occasionally to sniff a bit at a piece of decoration or furniture, but always moving whenever Shelley, right behind him, started to come too close.

Meredith opened a door. "You see, Edgar? This is your room."

Shelley wondered if he saw things the way she did. It was a guest room, but very bare. There were some cheap pieces of furniture – bed, desk, chair, dresser – all with an air of disuse.

Meredith sat on the bed, patting it lightly. Edgar paused, on all fours, watching suspiciously.

"Come on, Edgar. This is your bed. _Bed_. Can you say 'bed'?"

Evidently not, Shelley thought to herself, as the boy cocked his head to one side at her voice, but otherwise made no indication of understanding. The thing was an idiot.

Meredith sighed, not giving up. "All right, then. Come on to the bed, Edgar. This is where you'll sleep."

Edgar didn't move. He looked around, found a small enclosed space – the closet – and curled there, closing his eyes.

Meredith's jaw clenched, not because of what he did, but because of what that behavior signified. "No, Edgar." She shook him awake – he yelped and jumped away, crashing into the back of the closet – and led him to the bed. He followed her obediently all the way to the edge of the bed, then stood there, rocking slightly, unsure of what to do next.

"He doesn't seem to like the bed, Mom," Shelley commented from the doorway.

Her mother ignored her. "Come on Edgar. On to the bed." She placed her hands beneath his arms and lifted him up until his front half was settled on the bed, then pushed his legs on after. He was remarkably thin.

"You see?" she said. "You sleep here and – no Edgar!"

He had looked out the window; seeing a tree, had tried to leap at it and had slammed his face into the glass.

Shelley couldn't help it; she cracked up, laughing at Edgar's behavior, at the utter surprise on his face upon encountering what seemed to be an invisible barrier, and at her mother's shock.

"Shelley, stop laughing!" Edgar, rubbing his nose, was staring at her. Shelley forced the laughter back. Edgar hopped up and down on the bed, trying to make the same gasping sounds.

"What's he doing?" Shelley asked suspiciously. Edgar, seeing her expression turn hostile, stopped, pushing himself back to the wall.

"I think he's trying to laugh, Shelley."

"He kind of sucks at that, Mom."

Edgar settled on the pillow.

"Well, I need to tuck him in." Meredith pushed him down gently so that his head was on the pillow. He had an unfortunate habit of curling into a tight ball when sleeping, and Meredith had to disentangle his limbs. She covered him with a blanket – he snarled at it in much the same way he had when confronted with his first pieces of clothing – and tucked him in when he had settled down.

"Good night, Edgar," Meredith said, patting him once more. Edgar, finally getting that he was not going to be attacked by evil bedcovers, closed his eyes. It was a mark of how much trust he placed in them that he could sleep when they were nearby.

Shelley said, "Goodnight, Edgar."

_

* * *

_

_Edgar, Meet the Bathroom_

_Yet another after Retribution. Only this one was kind of gross. Funnily enough, I found a Bat Boy video online later that was similar to this..._

"Oh, that is _disgusting_."

Shelley stood, staring at the large wet patch on the bed sheets. Edgar was at her side, clothes stripped off, looking shamed, not sure what he had done wrong, only knowing he was the cause.

"Shelley?" Meredith called, coming up. "What is it?"

"Look at _this_!" Shelley pointed at the mess on the bed.

Meredith came closer and wrinkled her nose. "Oh dear, don't tell me…"

"He _wet the bed_, Mom!" her daughter yelled, now backing away. "I thought he was housetrained!"

"Would you really expect him to be that way in a cage?" Meredith asked, stripping the bed. She looked at Edgar and blinked. "Where are Edgar's clothes?"

Shelley shrugged. "I dunno. I just found him this way."

"Well help him!" Meredith bundled up the soiled sheets and rushed out.

Shelley looked at Edgar. He looked back, then started fiddling with the carpet. She groaned.

"You're a complete idiot, you know that?" He whined up at her, not understanding the words, but hearing the tone.

"Whatever. Come on, let's -" She wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, you smell horrible." She grabbed his arm, not very gently either, and tugged him into the bathtub. He slipped on the surface, still whining, completely bewildered. She turned on the shower head and made to spray him, trying to keep as far away from him as possible. He made the job easier by scrambling all the way to the back of the tub, screeching at the showerhead.

"Stop that! I have to wash you." She advanced on him; he, interpreting this as a threat, tried to escape out the side of the tub, succeeding only in slipping along the edge.

"No you don't!" Then she sprayed the water at him.

He spluttered, tried to struggle back, slamming into the shower curtains and knocking off the shampoo bottles and soap. She swore loudly, though it couldn't be heard over the commotion he was causing, aimed the water elsewhere, and –

"Shelley! What's going on up there?"

She turned the water off. Edgar was soaked and shivering with fear, bunched up at the back of the tub.

"Nothing, Mom!" she called back.

Shelley grabbed the thickest towel she could find and wrapped the naked boy in it, hauling him bodily out of the tub.

"Now put your clothes on!" she hissed, throwing them over his face. He yelped and slipped on the smooth floor, landing on his bottom.

"God, you are _pathetic_!" Shelley cried, pulling him to his feet. "Here."

She left the room, presumably to give him some privacy. He snuffed at the clothing, unsure what to do. The towel slipped off his shoulders unnoticed.

After ten minutes of waiting, Shelley opened the door. "Are you done – Whoa!" She pulled the door shut, seeing him naked once more. "Why aren't you done yet? MOM!"

Meredith came upstairs, a load of laundry piled in her arms. She sighed upon seeing the sight. "Here Edgar, let me help you." She put down the clothes and helped him pull on his shirt. "Shelley, you have to be patient with him."

"I thought he knew how to put clothes on!"

_It ends there. I sort of lost inspiration._

_

* * *

_

_Beauty and the Beast_

_This was written in one of my earlier drafts but cut out in favor of The Ugly Duckling. Beauty and the Beast is just used too often. (I lurked in The Phantom of the Opera fandom for some time, so I KNOW this to be true.) This occurs right before Rick came visiting and gets bitten.  
_

Edgar went downstairs to the television that remained on. He watched passively as the commercial ended and a cartoon came on.

About two hours later Shelley joined him.

"What're you watching?" she asked, looking at the screen. She raised her eyebrows. "Disney? Okay, then…which one is this?"

Edgar didn't answer, intent on watching the colorful drawings.

"Hey, I know this – it's _Beauty and the Beast_!" She laughed. "Man, I hated this one!"

He looked over. "Why?"

"It's so mushy! I wanted to throw up during some parts! And the ending was stupid!"

"The ending?"

She hesitated. "Well…I won't spoil it for you. But it's Disney; it will always be a happy ending."

They watched through the rest of it, Edgar more interested in it than her. The story of a hideous beast falling in love with a beautiful girl – and she falling for him – struck a chord in him, though he could not be sure why.

He looked once at Shelley, watching with one fist nestled under her chin, and felt a sudden rush of emotion, so strong and so unknown that it scared him.

Shelley, feeling his gaze, met his stare. "What?" she asked.

He focused back on the TV. Belle was cradling the Beast in her arms as he lay dying. The rose, a symbol of the time he had left before the curse became permanent, had dropped its last petal.

Onscreen, Belle whispered, "I love you."

_I love you._

_Now what did that mean?_ Edgar wondered.

When the cartoon was over (Belle happily dancing away with her Beast-turned-prince) he hopped madly away towards the bookshelf.

"Now what?" Shelley wondered aloud to nobody in particular.

_This segued into Edgar asking Shelley to read The Ugly Duckling to him. I couldn't put TWO references in, so this entire section went out the window. It was sad, because I had more references thrown in throughout the story that had to be deleted too. Oh well. _

_

* * *

_

_Edgar's First Time Outside_

_This almost survived the editing process but was cut out at the last minute. I put it in, though it's quite similar to (once again) LadyLore3's Retribution. It occurs before the two go to the cave for the first time. Just my take, I guess.  
_

After Meredith had run out of the house with a hurried explanation and an order to behave, Shelley and Edgar sat around in awkward silence, wondering how it was that Meredith's absence could leave them in a vacuum of silence.

"Sooo…." Shelley said, trying to break the tension. She didn't. "I guess…we could go outside."

Edgar clambered off the sofa eagerly.

"Huh. Guess you really want to leave the house, right?"

He nodded and ran to the door to further his point.

"Okay then. Let's head to the woods in the back." She opened the back door and hopped down the low steps. "There's a little trail leading to the mountains, and I think Rick once told me about this cave up there-"

She stopped, realizing Edgar hadn't followed, was, in fact, cowering at the doorstep.

"What's wrong?"

He didn't answer.

"Hey! Come out!"

He whimpered and shook his head.

Shelley sighed. "Okay, fine. Are you scared?"

He nodded.

"Of what? The sun?"

He shook his head.

"Okay…the…dirt…?"

No.

"The grass? The clouds? The sky?"

He nodded.

"What, the sky? Oh, you've got to be kidding me…" She grabbed his arm and dragged him out. "Look, it's harmless! It's _the sky_! Not going to hurt you!"

He twisted out of her grip and ran to the edge of the woods, grabbing the trunk and curling up to it. Shelley caught up to him and asked, panting, "What the hell was that?"

"Shelley…" he said, "…sky…big."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, _duh_. It's the _sky_. It's _supposed_ to be big."

He leaned against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. After a moment he felt Shelley's hand on his arm.

"Hey, it's okay," she said. Then she smiled at him, and he felt a peculiar lifting feeling in his chest. "Sorry for yelling. Want to continue?"

He nodded and raised himself up.

_And they go hiking to the cave. I thought that Edgar, after spending all his life in a cage, would be naturally scared of the open sky (agoraphobia, kind of), and wanted to show that._

_

* * *

_

_The Women's Meeting_

_This is in mainly to show how badly I wrote before I got a copy of the script. Also, the entry on Wikipedia mentioned someone named 'Delia', though she never appeared in the script (not that I knew that, at the time). She had to get cut out. Later, I found a production that made her into a girl scout, making her entire role in this scene very, very strange. Where there are breaks indicate where the other scenes were intercut with this one (the Taylor kids, the men, etc.).  
_

The morning sun lit upon Lorraine, Delia, and Daisy were silent as Mrs. Taylor finished her tale of woe.

"You have children too, don't you Delia?" she sobbed. "We've gotta protect 'em! Don't let 'em suffer the way my poor babies have suffered!"

The women nodded fervently.

"You're quite right, Mrs. Taylor."

"Oh, so right!"

"The Bat Boy is a menace!"

The three women bobbed their heads in unison.

"Then you know what we gotta do!" Mrs. Taylor pounded her meaty fist. "WE'VE GOTTA KILL THE BAT BOY!"

There was a little silence, finally broken by the sound of Lorraine coughing.

"That's nice, Mrs. Taylor, but… why, we're mothers and wives," she said. "We can't go killin' things – even Bat Boys."

Mrs. Taylor rose to her considerable height (and girth). "So you're saying we let the freak go."

"Oh no!" Daisy cried. "Not at all…but must we kill it? Dirty our hands and dresses with his blood?"

"YES!" Mrs. Taylor roared. "YES! HE MUST DIE!" She pointed her finger at them. "And you will – you must – join me! Protect our families! Protect our children!"

Delia wrung her hands. "Oh...Must we do that? I do abhor blood." Daisy and Lorraine nodded their agreement. Mrs. Taylor swelled with rage.

"You wanna leave your children to be sucked dry?" she screeched. "You wanna stay in your houses all day 'cause you're too scared to come out with the bat freak wandering?"

"No!" Daisy cried. "It's just – must we kill it? Perhaps Meredith Parker could put it down for us."

Lorraine quickly chimed in, "Mrs. Parker is a good woman. All she did was rescue the beast, out of the goodness of her heart." The women bobbed their heads in unison; all had had the experience of saving some wounded animal they had found on the streets.

"Maybe we can suggest it to her at the meeting," Delia added in a relieved tone.

"The hell with the meeting!" Mrs. Taylor cried. "The Sheriff's on her side! We've got to take action!"

The women screeched simultaneously.

"Oh but the Mayor herself will be there to decide!"

"We can't go running about like an unwholesome _mob_!"

"We must listen to them! They know better!"

Mrs. Taylor looked ready to kill. "NO! The Bat Boy dies TONIGHT!"

"If the Mayor's there, and the Sheriff, they'll tell us what to do!"

"Mrs. Parker's gonna be there! We'll convince her!"

"And Harlan Ellis! He's coming too!"

Mrs. Taylor stopped; the color left her cheeks as a calm betook her. "Mr. Ellis will be there?" she asked coolly. The women nodded, relief coloring their faces.

"I think I can wait a bit then, ladies," Mrs. Taylor said, now actually smiling. "Yes, you are right – actions like this are too drastic."

"We're so glad you agree, Mrs. Taylor," Lorraine said. "And we do give you our condolences for your children."

"Thank you Lorraine, and you Daisy, and Delia. My children know you care for them."

"Well ladies, I believe the meeting is upon us. Shall we go?"

_

* * *

_

_Wedding_

_There wasn't much cut out after. This was an alternate ending that was too darn happy and didn't address the whole incest issue properly, so it got rewritten for the current one. But here it is...a truly fluffy ending. Or as fluffy as my cynical self can get.  
_

Some months passed. The days passed into a muggy summer. Shelley and Edgar tread carefully around their mother, feeling like a silent agreement had been reached, though it was never spoken of out loud.

Near the end of July, Edgar got a surprise.

"Edgar, do you still want to…marry me?" Shelley asked.

His eyes snapped open. "What?"

"Marry me."

He slipped as he tried to sit up on the bed. "What…you…I don't…"

She dropped her gaze. "Oh…I see…"

"No!" he almost yelled. "No – I mean – what about…shouldn't you…" He was really gibbering.

"Uh…" Now she just seemed confused. "So…you want to?"

"I…" Every moral fiber in his body was saying 'NO!' and that things between them had gone too far; yet another part wanted nothing else. "Shelley…you deserve -"

She covered his mouth. "Don't," she said sternly. "Don't finish that sentence."

"But -"

"I want _you_, Edgar. So…yes or no…"

He struggled internally for an answer. "I…don't know…Yes?"

She laughed in relief. "Edgar…"

Then she brought out two rings.

"What…?" he said.

"I bought them a few days ago, just for today," she explained, letting him see.

"Why today?" he asked her.

"Because it's our birthday," she told him gently.

He didn't speak for a moment. "My…birthday?"

"_Our_ birthday," she corrected. "Since we're-"

"Don't," he interrupted quickly – the less said about it, the better – for him, anyway. "I didn't know…"

"Mom didn't want us to make a big deal out of it," she said, "at least, not until she thinks you've recovered."

He didn't think he would ever recover, but he did not say this out loud.

"So, Edgar? Will you marry me?"

Numb, he nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation.

"I don't know the words…" he said.

"I don't either," she replied, "but I don't think it matters that much."

She took the larger ring and asked him, "Do you, Edgar, take me to be your wife?"

"Yes."

She smiled. "Actually, you say 'I do'."

"Ah…" And he had blown it. "Sorry…"

"It's okay."

He swallowed. "I do."

A glow seemed to come over her as she placed the ring onto his finger.

"Do you…" For a moment he couldn't think of any words. "Do you…Shelley…take me…to be…your husband?"

She grinned. "Yes."

He stumbled. "I thought -"

"Oh, why not?" she laughed.

Her smile was infectious. He couldn't help but beam back. So he slipped the ring onto her finger, while she leaned over and kissed him.

THE END


End file.
